


Eight For A Wish, Nine For A Kiss

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Hayffie, Hunger Games, Post Mockingjay, Romance, War, trinkernathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 79,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the dynamics of the relationship between Haymitch and Effie from the 74th Hunger Games to the events that follows and how that relationship develops through the turmoil, the Rebellion and the aftermath.</p><p>"You are a despicable man, Haymitch Abernathy," she shook her head disapprovingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Just playing around with it)**

* * *

Chapter 1

Haymitch was being propped up by two Avoxes flanking him on each side; his head lolling like a marionette on a puppet master's strings as they dragged him across the penthouse towards the couch.

"Just leave him there," Effie directed, pointing to a couch. "Place him on one of those." They unceremoniously dumped him on the couch and made their way out.

Effie sighed, went to the kitchen to fill a glass with water and walked back towards Haymitch. She stood over him with the glass in her right hand hesitating for only a fraction of a second before she dumped the contents of it on his face.

His reaction was instantaneous and almost, almost comical that Effie had to stifle a laugh. He jerked and sat up, looking wildly around while his hands frantically searched the sofa for his knife.

"Haymitch!" she hisses threateningly.

That seemed to catch his attention and his eyes snapped towards her face.

"You are a despicable man, Haymitch Abernathy," she shook her head disapprovingly.

"Please sweetheart, if you want to talk to me, at least lower your voice. It sounds worse than having your ugly orange nails scratching against a chalk board," he muttered tiredly, wiping the water off his face.

Effie let out a long breath and settled down next to Haymitch on the sofa.

"Haymitch, I have a list of spon-"

"Thought I was a despicable man, Trinket? What are you doing sitting here next to me? Seems like only a second ago that you hated me." His lips twitched in a sardonic grin.

"Must you?" she frowned, annoyed. "I don't... I don't hate you, Haymitch. Yes, you lack proper manners but..."

"So you don't hate me? You just don't care about my existence then?" he baited.

She huffed in annoyance. "I don't hate you. I do care about you, even if you find that difficult to believe."

He threw her a sidelong glance and made a grab for the remote to switch on the television. It flickered to life and suddenly there was Katniss with the girl from District 11.

Rue.

"What does Chaff thinks about this alliance they've formed?" Effie asked quietly. Haymitch shrugged. She couldn't tell if he didn't know the answer or he was brushing Effie off, annoyed with her.

Effie had been working with Haymitch for close to ten long, insufferable years. He was not the easiest of men to work with, given his...charming and overly easy nature, but all men and women have their own demons to deal with.

While Haymitch Abernathy drinks to forget, Effie Trinket immerses herself in her endless schedules to keep going and try; to try and suppress the guilt she felt every time she draws two names from the bowl. To try and maintain a semblance of normalcy in a world where everything could go to hell in a hand basket. Every time she picked out two names to send to the slaughter as Tributes, the roiling guilt she feels in her core tears her up, and one of the only ways she had to deal with it was to lose herself in her work because that was the only way she knew how to forget. Even if it was only temporary.

She smiled wryly to herself and allowed herself a peek at the drunkard sitting beside her intently staring at the screen with his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled together resting on his upper lips. This drunk, strange as it seemed, was the only person she had in all of Panem.

Her family were all dead, every last one. Father succumbed to cancer when she was only 15 and Mother was never quite the same after. Mother followed suit barely 5 years later. Effie became an Escort after her mother's passing.

She had friends, though. Friends who were too concerned with the latest fashion trends emanating from the Capitol or the newest style of beard Seneca Crane was sporting. Effie felt like they were oceans apart.

Effie felt alone. There she was, wrapped in the horror of the Games witnessing innocent children brutally murdering each other and her friends were the epitome of all the things that the people of the 12 Districts expected them to be. Shallow, misguided,  _ignorant_ Capitolians, so fond of dressing like ostentatious clowns.

Or at least, that was Haymitch's opinion of the people of the Capitol. He told her as much that one night they were both up during her 2nd year working as an escort for District 12.

"Quit staring at me, princess Haymitch chided her, "can't you stare at your clip board or something? Prepare a schedule for tomorrow or the day after or whatever it is you always do."

She didn't even realize she'd been staring intently at the drunkard and blushed. Thankfully, Haymitch's attention was still focused on the TV.

"They're all prepared..." She trailed off.

"Should have guessed. Never miss a thing, do you?" he teased.

She ignored him.

* * *

Effie fell asleep on the sofa. She couldn't remember dozing off. She must have been really exhausted then. There was a blanket draped over her. Haymitch, she thought.

That was a side to him that not many knew existed. The gentle and caring side. He masked it well but one did not work together side by side for nearly ten years without finding things out about each other.

She glanced towards the kitchen where Haymitch was still searching for a bottle.

"Where'd you hide my stuffs, princess?" he asked without glancing at her, continuing his search.

"Not telling. Besides, you promised to stay sober for them."

"They're not here, are they? They're there," his thumbs jerked toward the television, "in the arena, fighting for their lives."

"Come back here and sit with me, Haymitch." she said and patted the seat next to her.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and waited for him to make his way to her.

He gave up his search and plopped down on the seat next to her. She leaned in towards him. He stiffened before he slowly relaxed and placed his left arm loosely around her shoulders. His ran his fingers through his messy hair with his free hand.

They got closer over the years. A strange sense of familiarity borne out of a need for human contact and a place to share their desolation after having to watch their tributes die year after year.

But that was all it had ever been. Small familiar touches here and there, her leaning against him as they sat on the couch, his hand on her knees, her gripping his hands as they watched their tributes die.

They both had barely enough sleep with all that had been going on; Katniss running from the fire, Rue dying inKatniss's arms, the rule change and now here they were watching Katniss trying to help Peeta with the wound he sustained from his brief time with the Careers.

"Why won't you send him some medicine, like you did with Katniss, Haymitch?" Effie asked, chewing her bottom lip worriedly, "He won't make it if you don't give him some medicine. It looks bad."

"Only one will make it, Eff." he said quietly.

"But the rule"

"Just a ploy! Can't you see it! All these years, the Games has never seen a rule change, why would this year be any different?" his voice rising steadily and at the end of his tirade he threw the nearest object, a small vase at the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Effie flinched and pulled away. She was used to his temper tantrums but he still managed to surprise her sometimes.

The lack of contact from Effie's body seemed to calm him down and he turned towards her, reaching out for her. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just-"

"I know. You look like you need a shower. And maybe some sleep."

He chuckles, "You look like you need to reapply that make up, sweetheart. And oh, are you blonde? I seem to see a lock of..."

She raised her hand frantically to her tilted wig, finding out that a lock of her golden blonde hair had escaped her normally immaculate applied wig. Mortified, she stood and made a dash to her room. Well, as much as a dash as she could manage in those heels of her.

She could hear Haymitch laughing in the background. She stood in front of the mirror and surveyed her smudge make up.

"Dear God, I looked like that? In front of Haymitch, no less?"

* * *

**Reviews and comments would be wonderful!**


	2. Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

There was frantic knocking on her door. "Eff, Effie! Open the door!"

"One second!" She slipped into her heels and pulled the door open.

Haymitch stumbled in looking severely out of breath. He yanked her hand and dragged her to the viewing room of the penthouse.

Effie wondered what could possibly make this mentor so frantic. After the excitement of the feast, watching Katniss pinned beneath Clove and coming close to dying, Effie didn't think her fragile heart could take it anymore.

He pushed Effie down on the sofa as he stood beside her, back rigid, eyes on the screen.

"Wha- What's going on, Haymitch?" Her voice rising an octave higher.

"The finale, Eff."

"Should we... I mean, shouldn't we be at the Games Headquarters?"

"No, not this late in the game. No sponsors can help them now."

Effie grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside her. His constant pacing and muttering was giving her a headache. They sat beside each other, her hands in his as he gripped it to tame the panic rising in him.

Effie did not want to watch this play out but she could not tear her gaze away, Haymitch's surprisingly warm and gentle hands gripping hers in comfort. But she had to, she supposed. She owed them this much at least, being too helpless to do anything else but rain well wishes from the safety of her room and the comfort of her couch.

She saw, through the screen of the large TV, the emergence of Cato from the woods, sprinting towards the star-crossed pair. Katniss fired an arrow that sped unerringly towards Cato's chest, only for her to be shocked when it was turned back so easily by the armor that Cato had obtained from his pack at the feast.

Bracing for the inevitable onslaught from Cato, Effie was surprised to see Cato speeding past both his opponents, only to see the reason for his sudden and hasty departure from the safety of the woods: the savage and monstrous wolf muttations hot on his heels; the creations of the Gamemakers that mocked the dead by resembling closely each of the tributes that had been killed earlier in the Games, indeed wearing even a collar that identified which tribute they were based upon. Effie thought she could identify Glimmer and Foxface, Rue and even Thresh.

The wolf creatures, Effie saw, had 4-inch long razor sharp claws that promised to reduce any being unfortunate to be caught within their grip to shreds of meat, unidentifiable to all, adding another source of worry for her, another few wrinkles showing in her immaculate make up.

The District 12 pair ran for their lives, chasing after Cato in a bid to avoid the deadly mutts. As they scaled up the Cornucopia, Effie let out a strangled scream through her fingers as she saw one of the mutts had managed a huge jump and attacked Peeta who was trying to climb up the Cornucopia. Katniss above him desperately drew out one of her remaining arrows and loosened it on the mutt, freeing Peeta, who climbed past her and rolled onto the surface of the Cornucopia.

In their efforts to avoid being brutally murdered by the wolf creatures, they had fatally forgotten Cato, who was still their biggest threat alive. Effie watched in absolute horror as Cato stunned Peeta and put him in a headlock, strangling the last remaining breath out of him.

Effie watched as Katniss notched an arrow to her bow with practiced ease, with only a warning that a shot from her would send both Peeta and Cato to their deaths staying her trembling hand. Cato then began a rant justifying his murderous advance through the Games, stating his desire to bring honour and glory to District 2 by winning the Games and doing what he knew best: killing. Not for the first time, Effie let loose a turbulent tirade of colourful insults at the inventor of the Games for forcing these children to murder each other, all in the name of entertainment, in her mind, of course. God knows, their penthouse was probably bugged.

Out of breath and almost out of options, Peeta drew an X on the back of Cato's palm and a moment later, Peeta saw an arrow rocket towards him and pierced Cato, right where he had marked it with his own blood. Effie watched, stunned as Cato released a gasping Peeta and fell towards the growling, waiting mutts below. Cato tried to fend off the attack from the mutts in turn, bringing his sword up to defend himself before disappearing from view.

Effie did not know how long she sat there, beside Haymitch, watching for what must have seemed like endless hours before she heard a bloodied Cato begging, ironically for mercy. She saw Katniss, being moved enough to investigate, lay on the lip of the Cornucopia, finding a savaged Cato lying on the ground. Effie felt only mercy as she saw Katniss remove her last arrow and mercifully end his suffering with an arrow through the skull.

As Claudius Templesmith announced that he had revoked his earlier rule, a speechless Effie stood in silence as Haymitch jumped to his feet and swore angrily. He flew into a rage, throwing everything he could grab against the wall.

Effie was on her feet watching in absolute horror as Katniss and Peeta stood facing each other with nightlock in their hands, threatening to die by their own hands so there would be no victors for 74th Hunger Games.

"Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am please to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you- the tributes of District Twelve!" bellowed the voice of Claudius Templesmith.

Effie gave a shriek of joy and ran towards Haymitch who had a plate in his hand and was in the midst of throwing it when the announcement was made.

She didn't know what came over her but she threw her arms around Haymitch's neck and started laughing and crying in joy before resting her head just below his chin.

She heard the plate crashed to the floor before she felt Haymitch's arms slowly wrapping around her. She looked up to him and he was staring back at her, grinning.

"They did it, huh, princess?" he said quietly. He dipped his head, cupping her porcelain face in his hands and his lips met hers in a soft kiss.

Effie was surprised and stood there stiff as a board, her mind racing and trying to register the fact that Haymitch was kissing her.

She parted her lips after awhile and dear God, he tasted of alcohol. Effie never thought that she would like it - but alcohol on Haymitch Abernathy never felt so right.

She'd dreamt of this before, kissing Haymitch, in the privacy of her mind and it was better than what she had previously imagined it to be. His lips were soft.

He broke off the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. She brushed a strand of hair away from his face, her hand eventually coming to a rest on his cheeks.

"We'd better go and see them." he said as he slowly pushed her away from him, trailing his hands down her arms, smiling gently at her. He held her hand and gave it a soft tug, "Come, Effie."

"Haymitch, wait - the kiss we, I mean what about ..." she trailed off. Her eyes darted away from Haymitch's, unsure how to go about with the conversation.

He turned & faced her. "We'll have time to talk. Later. Now, Katniss and Peeta - they need us, sweetheart. The stunt they pulled-" he tried explaining.

Effie silenced him with a peck on his lips, tugging his hand that held hers towards the door, "Let's go, then."

As they stepped out the door they let go of each other's hands and walked to meet their victors.

They would have time for whatever it is going on between them later.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Later" as promised by Haymitch never came as they were swept away in the bustling post-Games activities. They visited Katniss, unconscious after being heavily sedated, and after being reassured repeatedly that Peeta was not in any terrible danger despite having his leg amputated, Effie left for the Game Headquarters where the remainder of the Escorts and Mentors were gathering.

The Games after parties were usually loud, boisterous affairs and would go on for days on end until the Victor had recovered enough to give an interview on air. Haymitch loathed those pretentious parties that catered to the rich and privileged and could normally be found spending his time with Chaff slumped in a corner, nursing his drink.

This year, his excuse for not attending the after party lay at the feet of his two Victors, understandably, after a near death and a nail biting climax to a particularly bloody edition of the Hunger Games. Effie went alone and as she stepped into the room, she was greeted with a loud cheer and applause from all around.

"Effie, dear, Effie," a high pitched voice called out.

Effie turned towards the voice and saw, Dareia, the escort from District 4 making her way towards her, arms extended for a hug. Dareia was twenty years older than Effie and reminded her of the kind of aunt that everbody has and loves to forget about. Dareia was a true gossip in every sense of the word, gigglish and overbearing. She came of money; her husband, a higher-up in the Government catered and attended to her every need. The only reason she became an Escort was for the fame and glory that one would inevitably derive from having Tributes they escorted ascending the throne to Victorhood. She planted light-as-a-feather kisses on both Effie's cheeks, and gushed at how lovely she think Katniss and Peeta were, how terribly glad she was that the two star-crossed lovers made it.

Effie smiled politely, spouted a few thankful pleasantries and excused herself. She made her way to the group of sponsors she caught a glimpse of, talking and laughing by the refreshment table. Their faces lit up when they saw her petite frame making its way purposefully towards them.

"Oh, Miss Trinket, congratulations! Two Victors this year, you must be positively delighted," said one of them.

"The only Escort in history to have two Victors, too! How amazing. Let me tell you, Ms. Trinket, your name will go down in the history books of Panem!"

"Well, yes, thank you and thank you, too for your sponsorship, Mr. Abraxas, Mr. Stephen," she said nodding towards the two sponsors Haymitch had sealed the deal with. She stayed a while to make small talk, to ensure that she remained in their good books and that these sponsors would remember District 12 when next year's Hunger Games came around.

Effie had been raised early on to recognise the importance of establishing relations and having connections. In the Capitol, where the citizens hardly understood the scarcity of food and the starvation of people in the Districts, knowing the right people could prove to be their ticket for survival one day.

As she walked towards the big doors of the Games Headquarters, her path was intercepted by Chaff who tugged her arm and twirled her around playfully, his laughter ringing in her ears. Effie's eyes widened in surprise as she felt Chaff embrace her, his voice whispering in her ear, "Tell Haymitch to be careful. Tell him to remember his Game. You understand, darling? Pass the message."

Effie nodded and Chaff released her, smiling at her. Any observers viewing them through the cameras would have seen Chaff congratulating Effie and walking away. They would have no way of knowing the sudden frantic beating of her heart, her mind racing a million miles a minute, trying to process and decipher Chaff's warning.

She saw Finnick, casually leaning against a wall, a drink in his hand, smiling disarmingly at her. His sea green eyes twinkled mischievously and Effie wondered how anyone was supposed to resist such charm. He pushed himself off the wall, sidled up to Effie and softly murmured "Listen to him," before he left, trailing after Chaff.

She hurriedly walked back towards the hospital and collapsed on the chair in the waiting room. Portia was there, waiting for news on Peeta. "Where's Haymitch?" she asked, looking around.

"Last I heard, he was giving the Gamemakers a piece of his mind," Portia replied. Effie whipped her head towards Portia, face frowning in confusion. "What?"

"They wanted to alter Katniss surgically," Portia supplied her with an explanation.

"What's wrong with that?" Effie asked, confused, not quite comprehending the issue. After all, surgical enhancement was not a foreign concept in the Capitol.

"Not while she's unconscious. Haymitch would have none of it."

"Oh, well, yes, getting her consent is only appropriate. I'm glad Haymitch is sorting it out then," she leaned back against the chair and briefly closed her eyes.

The kiss she shared with Haymitch came flashing back into her mind. She wondered if the kiss was only a thing born of the spur of the moment, if he was so overwhelmed by the twin feelings of relief and victory that he displaced it on the nearest person in the vicinity, in this case, her.

I was the one who threw myself at him, hugging and crying, but oh, his lips were so soft. He meant it, surely? He wouldn't have kissed me if he doesn't. But this is Haymitch, he doesn't usually mean what he says, either, Effie thought sadly to herself, her mind a jumble of irrational thoughts.

Later that night, as Cinna and Portia left to discuss the design of the outfits for the Victor's interview, Haymitch and Effie were left alone at the dining table. Effie glanced up at Haymitch who was drinking, once again.

"Heard you fought with the Gamemakers," she tentatively broke the silence.

"Yeah," he replied, not even looking up at her.

She bristled. Following the kiss they shared yesterday, he had been acting like she was a carrier for infectious diseases and not worthy of his attention. He did not meet her eyes, he refused to even acknowledge her presence at the dinner table and when they were pulled into conversation by Cinna and Portia, he did not speak to her directly, ignoring her every comment.

Clearly, now was not a good time to bring up the kiss, as Effie had mentally labelled the incident. Incident, she thought derisively, it sounds so... technical, emotionless.

She leaned forward inconspicuously and lowered her voice, "I met Chaff, today."

"Oh?"

"He said to let you know that you shou-"

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the tiled floor. Effie looked up, mouth agape, seemingly confused by his sudden movement. His hand gripped her upper arm; she winced and stood up before he dragged her towards her bedroom where he promptly released his death grip.

He shut the door with a soft click, went to the television to switch it on and turned up the volume. He threw the remote on her bed and gestured for her to take a seat. She complied and felt her mattress dipped as he sat down beside her.

"Bugs," he muttered, by way of explanation, his hand waving towards the television broadcasting the live feed of the various post-games parties all around the Capitol. She nodded in understanding.

"Chaff?" he reminded her.

"Oh yes, well, I was at the Games Headquarters and, I thank the sponsors, did my job and, I think we might have a sponsor base for next year, Haymitch, I really do. I also met Dareia, you remember her? She's the –"

"Sweetheart, I'm pretty sure there is a point somewhere, will you wake me up when you get there?" he told her.

Effie blushed in embarrassment; her habit of rambling off when nervous is well known. She would have pointed out how rude he was for interrupting her, but she knew that he didn't have the patience to sit through her narratives unlike Cinna who would smile and nod at all the appropriate moments.

"He told me to remind you to be careful. He said to remember your Games," she said softly. Haymitch hated talking about his Games, the mere mention of the Second Quarter Quell and the 50th Hunger Games would bring him to his feet and out of the room faster than one could say 'Panem'.

"Finnick said the same." She added as she stayed his hand, preventing him from leaving. He told her once what the Capitol did to him after he was crowned victor. How President Snow meted out his punishment for making the Capitol look like a fool.

"I was only trying to survive, you know. What would a 16 years old boy know about making the Capitol look foolish? I just... I wanted it to end, wanted to go home," he told her once, as he drank his whiskey.

It was Haymitch who opened her eyes to the sufferings of the people in the district, and he had done so unconsciously. He would tell her stories of the coal mines and the electrical fences surrounding Twelve, the memory of the starving children of the District causing him to frown in displeasure each time he caught Effie wasting her food. She stopped taking more food than could be consumed after he shouted at her once.

"The stunt with berries is going to bring down the Capitol's ire on them," he informed her. She nodded, having already figured out as much.

"Do you have a plan? Any way to spin the story to our advantage?" she asked as she nibbled her lower lips worriedly.

"Stop it," he commanded.

"Stop what?" she asked, startled.

"That. Stop biting your lips like that. You keep doing that all the time, sweetheart. It's... it's distracting," he said as his eyes flickered towards her lips. Effie thought she could detect a faint note of desire in his voice.

"Yeah, I have a plan, don't worry your pretty head. Go to bed," he ordered as he stood up and walked towards the door. His hand was on the door knob when she called out his name. She stood up and walked towards him.

"Haymitch... I..." she faltered unsure, if she should go on. She wanted so much for him to kiss her, and wrap his hands around her, tell her that everything will be okay, even if it was a lie. She wanted the comfort that only Haymitch Abernathy could bring.

"Goodnight," she stood, tiptoeing, and planted a soft kiss on his stubble cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Effie stood, tapping her heels nervously as she waited for the go ahead before being presented on stage. Her decade-long wait for this particular moment had finally ended, although she'd never imagine her moment of triumph would be punctuated with so much anxiety and fear for her two young victors.

In her private moments at the comfort of her apartment, she would often sit in the leather armchair swirling a glass of wine, dreaming of being presented on stage as an Escort for the winning district. She imagined she would be smiling and waving enthusiastically towards the cheering Capitol crowd. Oh, how her parents would have been so proud of their little dove if they had been alive, watching her on live television.

She felt Haymitch's hand at the small of her back giving her a gentle push as she heard Caesar Flickerman's voice booming over the speaker, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the lovely escort of District 12, Miss Effie Trinket!"

Effie turned around and gave Haymitch a nervous smile which he returned with a nod of his head towards the direction of the stage, "Don't keep them waiting," he murmured.

She stepped onto the stage and walked towards the direction of Caesar Flickerman, smiling so brightly her cheeks hurt. Caesar Flickerman gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheeks and ever the flatterer, "Glowing as always, Miss Trinket," he said, smiling, showing off his pearly white teeth.

As Effie stood there on stage overlooking the crowd with the bright lights focusing on her, illuminating her bright green wig, she glanced up towards the balcony where the ever watchful President Snow sat. His eyes locked onto hers and her breath hitched. For a moment, she was fearful that he could read her thoughts. Don't be silly, Effie. He may be the President, but he is still an ordinary man. He can't read your mind, she chastised herself.

"You must be extremely proud of Katniss and Peeta," exclaimed Caesar.

Effie expanded all her energy into focusing her attention back to him and took a deep breath to compose her rattled nerves. "Yes. Yes, I am. Those two are... They're pearls, both of them." She said smiling.

"Yes, and what was it you said after the chariot ride ceremony? If you put enough pressure on coals-"

"They turned to pearls," Effie finished his sentence, nodding enthusiastically as the crowd went wild, shouting and clapping in approval.

Effie made her way to join the prep team sitting on the reserved seats at the front of the stage and watched as Cinna and Portia were introduced. Haymitch was stepping on stage and just like all the years when he won the Second Quarter Quell, the crowd loved and adored him, roars that shook the rafters accompanying his every word and gesture. For a moment, Effie surmised the crowd could have forgotten that this was the notorious drunk from District 12, the laughing stock of Panem.

Effie's heart swelled in pride at what Haymitch had accomplished within this few weeks; upholding his end of the deal to stay sober long enough for the kids, mentoring them and sealing sponsors. That was more than he had ever done in the past, being traditionally apathetic towards the training of his charges, a side product of having seen them die Game after bloody Game. He used to be of the opinion when he strongly believe that nothing he did would save his tributes' life. He must have seen something in Katniss and Peeta, must have believed in them... or one of them, Effie mused to herself.

She watched the live reunion of Katniss and Peeta and her heart leapt in her throat, afraid of the danger they were in. The love shining out of Peeta's eyes were unmistakably real. Katniss, to her credit, seemed to be playing the star-crossed lover story perfectly, Effie managing a better read of Katniss's demeanour. After ushering them to the Victors' corner, Haymitch joined her and the rest of the District 12 team at their reserved seats.

"Do you think they'll be alright? Does she... Does Katniss know?" she whispered inconspicuously, referring to the stunts with the berries.

"Yes." Haymitch replied, frowning. Effie turned back and saw Katniss leaning against Peeta who wrapped his arm around her. Haymitch sighed and leaned back, seemingly relieved with how things were going and they settled down to watch the recap of the 74th Hunger Games for the next few.

As the recap came to a close, Effie whisked them away to President's Snow mansion for the Victory Banquet where they were immediately surrounded by the press. Effie too was being pulled in several directions by reporters wishing for a word with the Escort.

Effie finally waved off the last of the reporters and made an escape to the gardens surrounding the mansion. Heaving a sigh of relief, she leaned against the white marble banister.

"You left the kids alone?" Haymitch said seemingly out of nowhere. Effie jumped in surprise and spun around, heart in throat at the sudden question.

"Haymitch! Goodness," her hands flying to her chest, "yes, yes, they're fine."

Haymitch eyed her sceptically, "What are you doing here, thought you would eat up the attention you're finally getting."

She threw him a dirty look and retorted, "I need some air."

"Oh, there's no air in there?" he shot back, his thumb jerking towards the direction where the banquet was taking place.

"What are you doing here, then?" she asked.

"No reason, got my drink, don't like crowds."

"Don't like people, you mean."

"Nah, just you."

That stung. Effie thought after all they'd been through, after the kiss, maybe, they could... She did not know exactly what she was hoping for, but she most certainly was not expecting the aloof and indifferent act from him. It hurt, badly, but she would not let Haymitch have the satisfaction of seeing how much his behaviour affected her.

She's not foolish enough to expect him to change for her, to suddenly cater to her every whim or hold her hand and whisper sweet nothings. Haymitch isn't that kind and she knows it. All Effie was looking out for was a hint that the kiss mattered to him as much as it mattered to her. Just the slightest hint and she would be contented.

Effie heard him chuckling. "You look like you've swallowed something sour with that face you're making."

"What face?"

"That face," his finger circling the air around her face to emphasise his words.

"Well, I can't see my own face now, can I, you silly drunk?" she smiled despite her efforts to remain irritated with him. That was how their relationship had always been, the constant bickering and teasing, fighting and disagreements.

And Effie realised, that she preferred it. The Capitol men were notoriously prim and proper, and conversation with one got boring pretty quickly. With Haymitch, however, she wasn't afraid to let her hair down a little, to insult him back knowing he wouldn't get offended and would most likely retaliate with a quirky insult.

"Haymitch," she began nervously. "Could I-we please talk about the other night..." she took a deep breath, to gather her courage because her next sentence came out in a rush of a single breath, "Could we talk about the 'later' you mentioned? That night we kissed, Haymitch, could we-"

"No. No, Eff," he said, calling her by the name he gave her when it was only the both of them. "Not now, the time...There'll be time, later, I promise."

"Why?" She insisted, pushing on bravely. "Why is now not a good time? This concerns me as well, Haymitch Abernathy. What if I think now is a good time, why do YOU get to say if it's now or –"

He growled in frustration, and abruptly turned away. The silence between them was so thick, the tension so palpable one could slice it with a butter knife. The only sound came from the music drifting slowly from the Victory Banquet in the mansion and the soft rustling of the trees in the wind.

"Do you have to be this stubborn?" he asked rhetorically. She shrugged. "Just... Please, just trust me, Princess." Her eyes widened in surprise and she stared into his Seam-grey eyes. Haymitch rarely ever begged or pleaded for trust; Effie wasn't sure he even knew how to. If he did so now, however, Effie was struck by the sudden knowledge that it was of great importance.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his, "Okay," she whispered.

He sighed in relief. He took her hand and pulled her towards an area of the garden where the music was slightly louder. His intention was clear; he did not want to be overheard.

"There are things going on... I can't tell you, for your own safety. The lesser you know, the better. You understand?"

"Yes."

"Pretend you don't know anything. Not the berries, not the danger they're in, nothing. When we go back to Twelve, you return to your work and you plan that Victory Tour. You think of nothing else, alright, sweetheart? And...And, when it's all over... Well, who knows," he shrugged.

It didn't seem much like a promise to Effie, but given the circumstances they were in, she would willingly take what she could get. Haymitch had other worries plaguing his already overburdened mind; she would not add to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a vignette of the different scenes in the Victory Tour. It focuses mainly on Haymitch and Effie's interactions. Hope you like it & do leave a comment :)

 

Chapter 5

"Malfunctioned? No, no, no! We'll be extremely behind schedule," Effie grumbled to nobody in particular as she paced up and down, her perfectionist nature causing her to be increasingly irritated at the unscheduled delay.

"Oh no, one hour is too long! Tell them we can only afford a delay of 15 minutes," she instructed an Avox standing behind Haymitch holding a pitcher of juice.

"Finally lost it, this one. She's crazy enough to instruct and depend on an Avox to relay information," Haymitch muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

When Katniss lost her temper, Effie was rather taken aback. She gave a forced smile to the rest sitting around the table and excused herself.

Sitting on her bed, Effie tried to blink away the tears that gathered menacingly at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill out and cause her to cry, something she secretly despised doing.

Haymitch walked in uninvited, closing the door behind him, carrying a muffin that had already been partially subjected to his appetite.

"She didn't mean it, sweetheart," he told her softly as he bit into the half eaten muffin in his hand.

"I know. I just...I'm worried that's all."

Swallowing the mouthful of bran in his mouth, "You need to learn to relax. Wipe those tears, your mas... mas...whatever it is you put on for your eyes is smeared," handing her his handkerchief.

XxX

"It's gunfire," Haymitch said urgently.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course it's not. Why would they fire at those people out there?" she shot him down.

Effie fell silent as Haymitch shot her an angry glare. She watched as he walked away with Katniss and Peeta, till Cinna tugged lightly at her arms and, broke her out of her reverie, beckoning her to follow him. Effie didn't see Haymitch again until it was time for dinner.

XxX

"People are talking!" Effie whispered angrily to Haymitch.

It was early in the morning and the sun was just starting to rise. Effie had dragged Haymitch out of his bed to discuss the matter at hand. It wasn't an easy task. Effie watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"What you want me to do, then? I thought you're giving her those sleeping pills to help her," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"I was. But she's refused them lately. I told you, Peeta has been sleeping in her bed. Every night," she took pity on him and slipped two pills of aspirin into his hand.

She got up and filled a glass with water before pressing it into his hand, urging him to drink. He nodded his thanks and downed the pill, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Effie pursed her lips in disapproval. Has this man never use a napkin before?

"I don't see the problem. They're Panem's star-crossed lovers. Honestly, Princess, if this is such a big deal, go talk to her."

"Easy for you to say, isn't it? You know how Katniss is with me. They should be more discreet, that is all I'm saying," she stated with a note of finality in her voice.

XxX

When she wasn't occupied with ensuring that things were on schedule, she was in a state of awe during the rest of the Tour.

She had never travelled outside of the Capitol before, unless of course one counted the annual trip to District 12 for the Reaping. Effie was amazed and puzzled at how different things were in the districts compared to back home. Back in the Capitol, everything was so colourful and vibrant.

The districts looked like they had seen better days. The buildings were dilapidated, threatening to collapse at the slightest gust of wind. The streets were dirty and the air dingy. Effie felt her spirits dwindle the longer she travelled through the districts.

The sun was shining brightly as Effie wandered through the cobbled streets of District 3. She gently wiped her forehead with the handkerchief Haymitch gave her a few nights back. She had never returned it and oddly, Haymitch had never asked for it.

She saw the faces of the thin, starving children and it pulled at her heart strings. She even went up to one and tried to talk to a little boy of approximately seven with his bright green eyes looking up at her fearfully. She wanted to offer him a sweet but Haymitch had pulled her away back to the train.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just... The boy, he looks so sad,"

"Well, of course he is, it's not like he's got food to keep him happy, does he?" he told her angrily, "Keep it together, Eff." he said before walking away back to his compartment.

Throughout the rest of the Victory Tour, Effie didn't wander off, choosing to only be at the required venue as dictated in her schedule. In her state of what Haymitch had termed 'blissful ignorance', she was not really aware of the poor state of affairs in the districts other than what Haymitch had previously told her about District 12. Even with the knowledge she knows about the starvation and poor living conditions in District 12, it didn't prepare her for what she saw in the other Districts.

She was never warned and she understood why now. The other Escorts couldn't have told her even if they wanted to. The Capitol would have seen it as a traitorous act.

XxX

Cinna spun her around the dance floor, and she wobbled a little on her feet, dizzy from all the dancing.

"No, stop. Stop, Cinna. I can't dance anymore," she laughed good naturedly. As Cinna led her away from the dance floor to the refreshment table, she felt someone's eyes on her.

She turned around, searching when her eyes landed on Haymitch. She saw him abruptly averting his gaze and turned to talk to Chaff. A smile escaped Effie's lips.

Sipping her drink, she saw a large beefy man approach her. She shook his extended hand as he introduced himself. "Don't think I've met you before, I'm Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker," he smiled, showing perfect rows of pearly white teeth.

"Oh, pleased to meet you, Mr. Heavensbee! I wasn't aware of your new appointment, how terrible of me," she replied sheepishly.

"Not to worry, dear. The announcement has not been made yet. It's all hush-hush, you understand?" he said as he gave a good natured laugh.

"Why was Seneca Crane replaced?" she questioned Haymitch later on, almost afraid of the answer.

She watched his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed uncomfortably. Her eyes followed as he glanced around furtively around the room before lowering his voice to a whisper, "Crane stopped them-" he jerked his head to where Katniss and Peeta were standing, talking to some sponsors, "- from eating those berries. He was punished."

Effie's eyes grew wide as saucers, "No. You can't mean... Is he... is he?"

"Yes."

XxX

The Harvest Festival was in full swing with children in tattered clothing running around chasing each other, their innocent laughter ringing in the air. The children in District 12, especially those living in the Seam, hardly ever had reasons to laugh, living their life day by day worrying about not starving to death.

Today, for the first time since Haymitch won the Hunger Games, the population of District 12 were celebrating the Harvest Festival at the square, helping themselves to the rare, extravagant serving of food, courtesy of the Capitol.

Effie stood under a shade of a tall oak tree, deep in thought. The Victory Tour had opened her eyes to the vast differences in which the people in the Capitol,  _her people_  and the people in the districts led their lives. She wondered how they could all be a country; they could all be citizens of Panem and yet, live so differently.

She felt someone standing next to her and the smell of alcohol filled her nostrils. Haymitch, she thought, smiling to herself.

He broke the silence. "Crane's someone I should know about?"

"What?"

"Well, yeah, after I told you about his... his fate at President Snow's mansion, you're all quiet. Locked yourself in your room in the train for the longest time," rubbing his hand uncomfortably on his neck. "So... He's someone special to you?"

She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Could it be? Could he be jealous? Her heart leaped in her throat at that possibility.

"Yes... I mean, no. No. He was a friend; a good friend. We went to school together, grew up together in the same part of town."

"Ahh, well, alright."

"Why?"

"No reason," he replied quickly.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Chapter 6

Effie slid into the seat opposite Cinna, smiling brightly at him. A sketchbook was open in front of him with a half-finished drawing of what looked like a wedding dress. She strained her neck to peek into his sketchbook.

"Is that the dress Katniss will be wearing for the photo-shoot?" she asked as she sipped her drink.

"Yes, amongst others." he said as he slid the book towards Effie for her perusal. They had agreed to meet at a cafe down the corner from where Effie lived, reducing the risk of them being overheard or caught on tape.

"They're absolutely gorgeous, Cinna! I might even be a little jealous of Katniss, now." Effie gushed as she flipped past page after page of beautiful wedding dresses, magnificent in their delicacy and design.

"Perhaps one day you'll wear them," Cinna gave her a knowing smirk. Effie blushed despite herself.

"How'd you-"

"I just do."

Cinna went back to his sketching while Effie gazed around watching the people bustling about their respective businesses. Her eyes caught sight of two Peacekeepers patrolling the area, their faces hard as their eyes roamed the street for any sign of trouble.

Effie frowned. Peacekeepers, as a rule, did not patrol the streets of the Capitol when the Games were not in session. They stood guard at the President's mansion, or during the various parties held on the streets during the Games. They were also stationed at the Games Headquarters and Training Centre during the Hunger Games as a security measure.

The sight of a Peacekeeper, much less two Peacekeepers equipped with firearms was a very rare sight. The rest of the people seemed unfazed by that, and Cinna made no mention of them. Effie noticed however that the people seemed to give the Peacekeepers a wide berth to avoid crossing their paths. Effie remembered the time during the Victory Tour and her surprise at seeing Peacekeepers everywhere at each District.

She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to Cinna, "What are the Peacekeepers doing here?"

"What they were paid to do," he answered without looking up, his hand busy flying across his sketchpad.

"But... They've never... This is unusual, if I may say so myself."

"Effie, remember when you complained to me last week about those silk gloves you wanted so much?" Cinna whispered.

"Out of stock, I was told. I don't see what that has-"

"District 8's textile production has ceased all production operations for the moment. You're a smart woman Effie, you tell me why."

Effie bit her lip in concentration. Her eyes widened as the full impact of what Cinna was trying to imply hit her. The Games, the memory of Haymitch's word of caution the night of the Victory Banquet, the gunfire in District 11 that Haymitch had been so insistent about, the panic in his eyes when she tried to talk to the boy in District 3, the tense and tight security measures in all the districts came back at her, floating out of nowhere as if summoned by her thoughts.

"No," she breathed out, "you mean there's an... an uprising?" Effie mouthed the word. Even the word sounded so strange and foreign on her tongue.  _An uprising._ The Dark Days were stories she read of in history books while she was still at school, harmless and unreal as long as it stayed within the pages. The thought of Panem in another bloody catastrophic war sent shivers up her spine.

Cinna nodded in confirmation, afraid to say anything else for fear of catching the attention of the watchful Peacekeepers.

Effie would later discover, as she and Cinna made their way back to her apartment, District 8 was the first district in Panem to rebel in earnest. Rebels led by Commander Paylor had been biding their time for years, patiently stockpiling ammunition and weaponry without the auspices of the Capitol, rising against the tyranny of President Snow.

The Peacekeepers were completely and utterly overwhelmed by the superior numbers of the marauding citizens. The rebels claimed the Peacekeepers' Headquarters, the Armory and the Communications Centre in one fell swoop, massacring the local Peacekeeping Force. Showing signs of some tactical nous and leadership behind the scenes, the raids on each site were conducted simultaneously at minimal cost of life to the rebels whilst the complacent Peacekeepers were outmaneuvered and outmatched at the sorties at each location.

"The Peacekeepers were overwhelmed? District 8 must have been planning this for years," Effie said in hushed whispers.

They took a longer route home just so Cinna could update Effie on the current situation. Effie was glad Cinna was keeping her updated, she had a feeling that if it was up to Haymitch, he would prefer that Effie be kept in the dark, for her own safety.

Effie had been wondering how Cinna, this mysterious stylist who volunteered for District 12, could know so much. She had asked him once, and he had smiled at her and told her in that soft soothing voice for her to trust him, the same way Haymitch had pleaded for her trust.

Effie didn't know why, but there was just something so purely honest in Cinna's eyes that told her she could trust this man. Cinna on his part had never given her reason to doubt him and he, along with Portia seemed to genuinely want to help Peeta and Katniss.

"Word is, yes, the plan has been there for quite a while," Cinna replied.

"So, District 8 is free from the Capitol's ruling?" she questioned.

Cinna gave her an amused look. "No, my dear, I don't think President Snow would have given up that easily," came his reply and as they made their way to her apartment, carefully avoiding walking into the path of the roaming Peacekeepers, Cinna filled her in on the rest.

The uprising didn't end with District 8's victory. The Capitol, recovering from the initial shock of the setbacks suffered, responded in force, marching in thousands of reserve Peacekeepers who had trained tirelessly for years for that very contingency as well as hovercrafts that very nearly overloaded themselves with anti-personnel bombs that carpeted the newly-claimed rebel strongholds with fiery death. As motivated and well-drilled as the rebels were, they were not trained and equipped to deal with such modernised weaponry.

Bit by agonising bit, the news of the hovercrafts and reserve Peacekeepers spread to every corner of the rebel army, demoralising them. They fled, the momentum of the rebellion that threatened to engulf District 8 at first slowed, then stopped completely, their hard-fought tactical victories reversed by sheer, brutal force.

At the end of T-plus two days after the beginning of District 8's brief rebellion, it was once again under complete control of President Snow and the Capital. Martial law was declared, the entire District put under a strict curfew and gatherings of more than three were shot at and hunted down mercilessly. Razor wire and sentry outposts barricaded the roads leading to important and strategically important sites, preventing free movement.

"Where did you- I mean, how did you get all these information?"

"Haymitch. Told me on the train back to Twelve," he replied.

Effie bit her lip, feeling slightly hurt that Haymitch had trusted Cinna with those information and news update instead of her.  _Ten years of working together should mean something, shouldn't it?_ Effie thought rather bitterly to herself.

That night, Effie went back to her apartment and collapsed on the sofa. Her mind drifted back to what Cinna told her earlier about District 8. Inevitably, it wandered towards Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch in District 12 and wondered if their District was in any way affected – or worse, on the very brink of an uprising, too.

She paced in her apartment and stopped in front of her phone.  _Should I?_ she asked herself, pacing endlessly back and forth.  _Oh, damn it, just call him, Effie,_ she resolved.

She picked the phone from the receiver and dialled Haymitch's number. It rang and rang and just as Effie was about to hang up, she heard his familiar gruff voice at the end of the line.

"What?"

"It's me. It's Effie," she said, involuntarily smiling to herself upon hearing his familiar drawl in her ear.

"Yeah? Is the Reaping tomorrow?" he asked sarcastically, poking fun at the fact that Effie only ever called him a few days before the Reaping each year to serve as a reminder.

She chuckled and sat on her black leather sofa. "No. It's just... Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, Princess, why wouldn't it be?"

"Just asking. I've been having a couple of difficulties myself. Did you know, the boutique I frequented told me just last Saturday that they couldn't sell me those silk gloves I wanted so much! Now, just how am I supposed to match my outfit for the opening ceremony for the Games later," she rambled on before falling silent, hoping Haymitch's mind wasn't too addled by the alcohol he consumed nightly in such dangerous quantities and would understand what she was trying to get across.

A curious and unwelcome eavesdropper to their conversation – something Haymitch managed to warn her about just before he left for District 12 - would merely pass that comment off as Effie being...well, Effie. Another pampered Capitol citizen tirelessly complaining when things didn't work out for them.

"Well, tough luck, sweetheart, I'm sure you had the most difficult of times. Nothing to tell you about Twelve that you don't know about though," Haymitch replied after a while.

Hanging up, she leaned against the wall; relief flooded her body.  _They're alright, they're safe. For now. I'll see them again at Katniss' photo shoot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed that. Do leave a comment :)


	7. Chapter 7

 

"Just how many of those dresses is she supposed to wear?" Haymitch snarled at Effie as he finally lost his temper. Effie had screeched at him on several occasions for standing too near one of the wedding gown with his bottle of liquor sloshing dangerously.

"Six! How many times must I- Stay away from that white dress, Haymitch!" she said as she batted his arm away with her clipboard.

"Ouch, you mad woman!" he said, furiously rubbing his arm.

"Out, get out! I have a schedule to keep without having to run around after you trying to keep you from spilling those... those nasty drink on Katniss' precious gowns," she huffed as she pushed him out of the Everdeens' house.

Haymitch turned and scowled at her, "No need to get your panties in a twist, sweetheart," He was rewarded by a blush creeping up her neck.

As night fell and the photo shoot came to an end, Effie knocked tentatively on Haymitch's door. She heard the floorboard creaked as he moved about. He must have stubbed his toe on a piece of furniture because Effie could hear him cursing through the door.

The door swung open and he stood there with his shirt rumpled and his hair in a mess.

"Yeah?"

She slipped inside his house as he mumbled, "You heard anyone inviting you in, sweetheart?"

"No, but I don't expect you to possess enough manners to do the proper thing like inviting a lady in," she retorted.

"Caught me there," he said.

"We're done," she said referring to the photo shoot. "We're going back to the Capitol, the train leaves in 15 minutes."

"Okay," he replied simply.

Effie's eyes flickered to his face. After hearing the news about District 8 and worrying about the kids and Haymitch in Twelve, she wanted to touch him so badly, to wrap her arms around him and seek his comfort as well as solace in his arms. She didn't want to go back to the Capitol, back to her empty apartment.

She thought it strange that she didn't even mind having to clean up after his mess when he vomited on the floor, or ensure he got to his bed after a particularly rough night of drinking himself to a drunken stupor. Taking care of the inebriated Haymitch was far better than the unbearable and oppressive silence of her apartment. She cared for the man, more than she was willing to admit.

"Well... I just wanted to tell you that. Would be rude to leave without saying goodbye," she tittered.

When he didn't reply, she gave him a smile and decided to leave before she uttered something so undeniably stupid like telling him that she would miss him. She could just imagine his reaction. A sardonic scoff to her face, she reckoned, for being all sentimental. She was about to pull the door open and leave when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Eff..." she turned around and nearly collided into him. He was standing so close to her; his masculine scent invading her nostrils.

"Haymitch," his name escaped her lips in a whisper, and before she could stop herself, she was telling Haymitch what she knew.

"District 8... Cinna... Cinna told me. He said there was an -"

He took her in his arms and pulled her close. It was so out of character that Effie stood rooted to the spot in shock. Haymitch Abernathy was not known for going around giving hugs. Her hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt as she felt his warm breath tickling her ear.

"Shouldn't have told you. He got you worried, didn't he?" She blinked in surprise. "Well, since he's done that, I might as well. Seven and Eleven, too. It's important now, more than ever that you don't slip-"

"Have I?" she mumbled, resting her forehead against his chest.

"No, but you have to keep up appearances. Gotta be the Effie that they know, the one that belongs to the Capitol. You don't know anything, no knowledge of anything going on anywhere, just remember that," he murmured in her ear.

She nodded in understanding. He released her, holding her an arm's length away. She saw the worry reflected in his eyes before he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Now, off you go, Princess."

XxX

Effie stood amongst the crowd as President Snow took the stage. Effie stared hard at him, wondering how this man slept at night; how anyone could have little to no respect for human life. Effie watched him as he surveyed the crowd, standing tall and prideful in the knowledge that he alone had control over the life of every single citizen in Panem.  _Who died and made him God?_  Effie thought angrily to herself.

She grew up admiring this man; respecting him for all that he had done for Panem and learnt to fear him for the power he wielded. She knew better now, she had confused respect with fear. The adage 'admiration is the emotion furthest from understanding' proved prophetic; her job as an Escort had opened her eyes and made her realize, that the schools in the Capitol had romanticised and painted President Snow in such glorious pictures that every kid in the Capitol grew up in awe of him.

President Snow raised his hand, palm facing outward calling for silence and demanding the audience's fullest attention. He gave his usual speech together with a grave reminder of the Dark Days before plucking a card out of the box.

_What sorts of horror will the Third Quell bring?_

She wrung her gloves nervously in her hand as she rocked on the balls of her feet, anticipating the announcement. Beside her, Cinna's face was grave, his mouth set in a thin line while Portia was the perfect poster girl for calm.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be Reaped from their existing pool of victors."

The people in the crowd broke out in loud chatter expressing their surprise and excitement at having Victors going back to the arena. Some shook their head in disbelief at the thought of having a favourite Victor competing again.

Effie barely registered the chatter around her. She felt her knees grow weak and her palm sweaty. Beads of perspiration had already begun to form on her forehead. Effie gripped Cinna's upper arm to steady herself as one singular thought ran through her mind,  _Haymitch will be back in the Games._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like that :)


	8. Chapter 8

 

"There are only three Victors in District 12, Cinna," Effie hissed venomously as she unconsciously wrung her hands, the tension evident in her.

"I know, Effie. And, if I know Peeta, he would not allow Katniss to go back in there alone," Cinna replied, in low, dulcet tones, trying to soothe her frayed nerves.

"It'll be like the 74th Games again," Effie noted. "But, it could be…" she gulped, "It could be Haymitch-"

"Peeta would volunteer. I already told you why, Effie. You need to get yourself together. You can't fall apart, not now, alright?" Cinna told her, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper as they passed by two Peacekeepers on the way back to Effie's apartment. Portia had already left for her home after the announcement was made.

As she unlocked her front door, she turned towards Cinna planting a soft kiss on his cheeks, "Thank you."

"Will you be alright?" Cinna asked.

"I will be. Should one of us call them? To check on them?"

"No, I don't think we should. What could we even offer them, Effie?" Cinna replied. And Effie knew it was true - she could not even come close to understanding what they were going through.

XxX

Effie spent countless sleepless nights wondering if the stunt Katniss pulled with the berries had anything to do with the tributes for the Third Quarter Quell being reaped from the existing pool of Victors.

She shook her head to banish the thought. The card that President Snow pulled from the box had been prepared years ago.  _It was just a coincidence, that's all, nothing more,_  Effie tried to convince herself. However there were nights when she was not so sure, when doubt began to creep into her mind.

She thought back to what Haymitch told her about his family years ago. If President Snow was capable of executing his entire family as well as his lover, Effie felt rather certain he would be capable of so much more.

Effie felt like a traitor. She loved the Capitol. It was her home – but it tore her inside to know that the city she loved was not what it seemed to be. The feasts, the glamorous lifestyle, the colours adorning the streets and the majestic buildings were a mere facade of what truly lay underneath it. Hidden from the ignorant-but innocent Capitol citizen was a sinister city; a city capable of ending lives and ripping children from their families with a simple press of a button in the Games' Control Room.

XxX

The blistering heat from the sun was making Effie even more uncomfortable as she walked through the gravel pathway to Victors Village.

She knocked on Haymitch's door and when there was no answer, she slowly pushed the door open. A sour odour greeted her, the rankness and general disorder of the room proving too strong for her delicate nostrils. Before she could turn away, a stray breeze carried the aroma of the recently used toilet wafting through the air, invading her nostrils, causing her to gag and nearly lose the contents of her stomach.

"Haymitch? Haymitch?" she called out to the eerily silent house.

"Have you come to send me to my death?" A low, deep baritone mocked her.

She spun around, a hand to her chest. "Haymitch Abernathy! You need to stop that! Stop creeping up on me!" she gasped breathlessly, referring to the Victory Banquet when he had done the same.

Haymitch chuckled at her apparent surprise.

When she finally got her breathing under control, she noticed that Haymitch was casually walking around his house with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He placed a grimy glass under the tap- one which Effie was certain had not been properly washed. She shuddered at the thought of all the bacteria collecting in it. Haymitch switched on the tap and filled the glass with the cooling water.

"Quit staring. Have you never seen a half-naked man before?" Haymitch snapped at her, raising the glass to offer it to her.

"Wha-Yes, of course, I have!" she retorted, embarrassed at getting caught. She gently pushed his hand holding the glass back at him, shaking her head to refuse it.

"You need to get ready," she ordered, abruptly changing the subject.

"Where are your manners? Isn't it rude or something... to refuse an offer from your host?" Haymitch chuckled darkly at her, teasing her.

"The Reaping is in half an hour," she went on without missing a beat, waving the schedule in front of him. Effie noticed his hand was shaking as he brought the glass to his lips and took a small sip.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry lines creasing her forehead. He pressed the cooling surface of the glass to his forehead.

"Yeah, go on, I'll see you at the Reaping," he told her, his hand at the small of her back as he gently nudged her out of his kitchen.

"You don't look well," she observed. She turned around and stepped closer to him but refrained from touching him.

She saw him sighed and rolled his eyes. "Didn't Peeta tell you when he asked for the recordings of the past games?"

"No..."

"He tossed my alcohol away, paid off Ripper so I can't buy any. Put us in training, every other day," he said, his fingers playing with a gold curl on her wig, tugging it and letting it loose, languidly repeating the action.

Effie raised a single eyebrow, surprised at that snippet of information. "Training for a Game is forbidden,"

Haymitch let out a laugh.

"Don't be so ignorant, sweetheart." he replied as he brushed past Effie to get to the living room, with her trailing after him.

"The Careers were trained and I don't see the Capitol kicking up a fuss," he told her as he picked up a rumpled shirt draped over the back of a chair.

He put it on and Effie's eyes followed the movement of his fingers. His hands were trembling as he fumbled with the tiny buttons on his shirt. Effie stepped forward and helped him. He let her.

"What if I pick your name, Haymitch? I feel so... I don't want –"

Effie fell silent as Haymith placed a finger on her lips. "You will go up on that stage and do your job, just like always. It's not different from any other year, Eff."

She nodded, not daring to utter a single word as she smoothed out his creased cream shirt as best as she could. Haymitch leaned forward, kissing her cheek.

"I'll see you later," Effie told him as she walked out of his house.

XxX

Effie stood on stage and looked down at the faces of Katniss who was standing on the left and Peeta and Haymitch on the right, separated from the crowd. Effie's eyes darted to the machine guns the Peacekeepers had trained on the rest of the population of District 12.  _Unnecessary,_  Effie thought to herself.

She could feel the growing anxiety building inside her.  _Best to get it over soon._

Quickly, she moved to the girls' Reaping ball and clawed around for the single piece of paper that only held Katniss' name. At the boys' reaping ball, she took a deep breath and picked one out of the two pieces of paper in it.

"Hay- Haymitch Abernathy," she choked, finally managing to get the words out, her mind racing, her eyes locked on his as he stared back at her, his face void of emotion.

She nearly missed the sound of Peeta's voice volunteering to take Haymitch's place. Relief flooded her body and immediately she felt guilty.  _Peeta and Katniss are going back, Cinna_ _was_ _right,_  she thought to herself.

XxX

After escorting Katniss and Peeta on the train and making sure things were set to go as planned and on schedule, Effie went to her room. She stared out of the window watching the scenery passing her by in a blur.

She heard door to her cabin open and close. She doesn't need to turn around to know to know who it was. Only Haymitch would take such liberties with her privacy, like coming into her room uninvited. True enough when she turned around, she saw Haymitch leaning against her closed door.

"You okay?" he asked her.

Effie stood up and straightened up her skirt. Slowly, she moved to stand in front of him.

"I'm... I'm glad you're not going back. To the arena. Does that make me a bad person?" she raised her eyes to meet his, seeking his validation, to hear him tell her that she wasn't wrong.

"But, Peeta... Oh, Haymitch, he volunteered. For you."

He offered her a small smile, "No. Not for me. For Katniss. I'm lying if I said I'm not relieved he volunteered. I would be lying, Eff. I don't want to go back. I have never really left," he told her, his voice sounded broken.

She stepped into his arms and rested her head on his chest feeling the steady beating of his heart. As she stroked his back comfortingly, Effie noted how the role had reversed. He came in her room to check if she was alright and here they were, wrapped in each other's embrace as she offered him what little comfort she could provide.

If that were to happen a few years back, Haymitch would have pulled away and sneered at her, insisting that he didn't need anyone, least of all from the likes of her. He would have insulted her, called her names and Effie would take offence and feel slighted.

He'd call her names now, throw insults and mock her but Effie knew they were done in jest; he didn't have any malicious intent. He did it because that was how they'd always act towards one another and to act any differently, Haymitch would have to finally confront what was going on between them. They had come a long way since then and Effie was glad.

She shivered involuntarily as Haymitch trailed a finger up her spine almost absentmindedly. After awhile, when he finally realised what he was doing, Effie felt his finger stilled and him stiffening in her arms. Gently, Haymitch pried Effie away from him and led her to her bed. He patted the mattress, asking her to sit beside him.

"I made a promise to Katniss and Peeta. Promised Katniss that I'll keep Peeta alive and I promised that boy I'll get Katniss out."

"Can you? Can you get them both out alive a second time?" she asked softly.

He shrugged imperceptibly.

"Haymitch, this is not-"

"There is a plan, it could work," he whispered, soft enough that no recording device could pick the words out.

"What plan? Are who are you planning it with?"

He patted her knee, squeezing it gently before walking out, ignoring her question.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

"Almost, but not quiet," Effie heard Haymitch said to Peeta and Katniss.

He walked down the length of the corridor with a bottle of wine in his hand and she stepped out of the shadow, addressing him.

"They're watching your games?"

For someone who was drunk, Haymitch could move blindingly fast. Effie found herself backed against a wall with his steel knife pressed against her throat. A whimper escaped her lips, her eyes wide with fear.

"It's me, please, it's me."

Haymitch blinked and slowly backed away. "Don't. Don't ever sneak behind me like that,"

"I wasn't. I was on my way back to my room, I heard you talking to them," Effie said, rubbing her neck.

"You sure you were walking back? Not hiding?" he smirked at her, his hand reaching out, slapping hers away, slowly examining her neck.

"Yes, Haymitch, I think I know where I was going," she replied coolly, trying not to let the feel of his fingers on her neck distract her.

"Or were you standing there in the dark sneaking at them trying to watch my Games?"

"I... I've watched your Games years ago," she replied, looking at him.

"Oh, did you enjoy yourself? Did you and your little friends placed bets on the girl from One when it was only the two of us left?" he said bitterly, sounding surprisingly angry.

Effie found the shift in his mood quite alarming. He retracted his hand and took a swig of drink from the wine bottle. She had a nagging feeling it was the alcohol that was rendering his moods mercurial.

"No. I was rooting for you, and I had to watch your Games again before I started my first year as an Escort. To get to know the mentor," she told him.

"Rooting... for me? Is that so? Why?" he asked, slightly taken aback. He was clearly surprised by this unexpected information. District 12 hardly ever had anyone rooting for them, being the perennial underdogs that they normally were.

She flushed and bit her bottom lip.

"Your eyes, you had a spark in them, some sort of determination. You were defiant, strong and proud. You stood out, and... Well, I noticed you. Especially during your interview," she said, looking down, embarrassed.

Effie felt Haymitch trailed a single finger along her jaw line before lifting her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Noticed me, huh?" his lips curled in a smile. Effie blushed under his gaze, his eyes boring into hers.

Haymitch's eyes were the most captivating shade of ash grey and Effie felt herself getting lost in them. Her mind must have dissociated itself from her body as she felt herself leaning forward, her mind screaming a warning at her to stop. She was acutely aware of the warm feeling of Haymitch's hand as it rested on her waist and the cooling feeling from the bottle of wine in his other hand pressing against her hip.

She blinked in surprise, the spell broken when Haymitch cleared his throat. He stepped away from her, "Goodnight, Eff."

He was gone before Effie could process what just happened.

XxX

"Do try to keep up, Haymitch! The opening ceremony isn't going to wait for you while you stumble around half drunk," she snapped at him.

"What's the matter with you?" he grumbled as he slipped a flask into his coat pocket.

Effie responded by walking briskly away. Haymitch caught up with her as she slid into her assigned seat, her eyes fixed at the spot where the chariots were arranged.

"I asked you a question, Trinket," Haymitch questioned her.

She pursed her lips in annoyance. "Not now."

"Well, if it's about yest–"

The words he was about to say were swallowed by the roars of the crowds as the tributes for District 1 rolled out in their chariots. The rest of the Districts passed by in a blur, turning to Haymitch, Effie commented, "Looks like they're trying to replicate our Tributes' designs last year."

"Yeah, looks like it," Haymitch said, the fight temporarily forgotten.

When Katniss and Peeta rolled out in their chariot, Effie couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. They were glowing like the fire in Effie's fireplace at her apartment; glowing like a warning to Panem. Cinna and Portia had showed her their designs so she wasn't really surprised. But Haymitch, like everyone else, looked captivated by the sight of Katniss and Peeta.

The crowds went wild, some standing on their feet and clapping enthusiastically. Others were cheering the so-called star-crossed lovers as they rode out in their chariot.

When it was over, Haymitch and Effie made their way back to the Training Centre. Haymitch immediately went over to talk to Chaff and Seeder. He may have hid it well, but Effie saw the unmistakable sadness in his eyes at the knowledge of his friends going back to the arena.

Effie crossed the room and went over to him, touching his arm, "They want us to go back to the Penthouse."

Haymitch turned and glanced at the Capitol attendants ushering the tributes away.

Walking towards the elevator, Haymitch was quick to bring the subject they were arguing about that morning.

"Are you going to be a bitch again? Cause if you are, I'll wait for the next elevator,"

She rolled his eyes. "No, and watch your language."

"Why so cranky, Trinket?" he teased her again.

She sighed. Haymitch could be very persistent when he wanted to. He chuckled. Taking her by the elbow, he guided her towards the elevator. Haymitch repeatedly jabbed the button for the twelfth floor and stood back as the doors closed.

"Just... Just leave it, okay? Just leave me alone."

"An odd request, sweetheart. Can't leave even if I wanted to, I'm stuck with you in this elevator," he told her, a sly smirk on his lips.

Effie ignored him and they rode the elevator in silence.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, will you tell me what I did, that's got you all twisted like this?"

"More like, what you  _did not_  do," she mumbled to herself.

"What was that, Eff?"

"Nothing!" she hurried to say, horrified that he may have overheard her.

"What  _didn't_  I do that got you all bothered like this?" Haymitch said, stepping closer to her. Her back was against the wall of the lift.

"Oh! It's inconsequential." she replied hurriedly, her eyes darting from the number displaying the level they were at and Haymitch's lips.

He raised an eyebrow, not believing a single word Effie just said. Effie raised her palms and rested it flat on his broad chest, gently pushing him away from her. He didn't budge.

"No, tell me. I don't want to go back to that Penthouse and have you nag at me all day because of some stupid thing."

Effie's breath hitched as she struggled to find the right words to say to him.  _No, no I can't tell him that_ _I'm_ _frustrated with how he's been treating_ _me_ _, that_ _I_ _had wanted him to kiss_ _me_ _last night_.

One of his hands was gently resting on her waist, while the other was against on the wall of the lift beside her head. Their position was almost...intimate.

Effie took a deep breath and strengthened her resolve. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his in a soft chaste kiss.

"That. That was what you didn't do yesterday," she murmured against his lips as she pulled back.

"Oh," he said, surprised.

She watched him, afraid of his reaction. He bent forward and pressed another kiss on her indigo coloured lips. "For yesterday," he whispered to her before he walked out of the elevator as they reached the twelfth floor.

Effie trailed after him in a daze, pleased but dazed. What had they gotten themselves into? They had not even dealt with the implications of their first kiss - when Katniss and Peeta had won the Games - and now this happened. They had not even talked about what was going on between them. Effie was fond of him, but would he even return her affections?

_Well, it's my fault,_  she thought to herself,  _for giving in to temptation._  She shouldn't have. But, that didn't mean she didn't enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

 

Effie's fingers briefly touched her lips, still tingling from Haymitch's kiss. She allowed a small smile to grace her lips but when she saw Katniss and Peeta emerging from another elevator, her smile vanished and the masked she put on for the world to see came slipping back on. She is Effie Trinket the Escort now; the Effie who had just been kissed by Haymitch was tucked aside for the time being.

As she fell in step behind Haymitch, Effie sensed a subtle change in the atmosphere. She grew more alert, anticipating some kind of problem. Her eyes landed on the two Avoxes standing at the entrance of the dining room and heaved a sigh of relief.  _Just a new Avox._

"Looks like they've got you a matched set this year," she said cheerfully. The memories of the kiss clearly had lent a weight to her mood and she found herself slightly happier.

She saw Haymitch glaring at her and Katniss face growing pale.  _Is something going on that I should know about?_  She thought to herself as the happiness inside her dissipated only to be replaced by a growing sense of anxiety.

Katniss stormed off and locked herself in her room with Peeta following suit after excusing himself.

"What... What's going on?" Effie turned towards Haymitch as they made their way to the sitting room.

"The new Avox was a Peacekeeper from District 12," Haymitch told her softly, not wanting to be heard. He was frowning in displeasure and Effie could see his temple throbbing as he tried to suppress his anger.

Effie's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She wondered if this was President Snow's way of reminding Katniss the power he wielded.

After the Victory Tour and witnessing Peeta proposing to Katniss, Haymitch had told her in his own roundabout ways how President Snow had threatened Katniss at her home. Effie thought the only reason Haymitch had informed her in the first place was so she could be prepared and could spin stories that would help Katniss with her act.

Effie, like the rest of the citizens residing in the Capitol had been genuinely happy and ecstatic for them both when Peeta had proposed. She thought it was extremely sweet and charming of Peeta to declare his love for Katniss in such a manner. Now that she was aware that it was done to please President Snow, she had been angry and grew increasingly worried for them.

XxX

At 8 am the next morning, Effie knocked softly on Haymitch's door out of courtesy since she knew he would not be opening his door this early in the morning. After a minute, she twisted the door knob and pushed the door open. She was surprised to see Haymitch sitting on his bed, the sheets twisted around his legs with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, looking like he had not slept at all.

"Haymitch," she called out his name, trying not to scare him. The memory of having his knife pressed against her throat still fresh in her mind.

"Hmm?" he answered as he slowly turned towards her.

"I've come to rouse you up but I see that's not needed. Breakfast will be served soon and you should eat something," she said, picking up his dirty clothes from the floor and putting in his laundry basket.

"Okay."

She approached him and gingerly sat down at the side of his bed, unsure on how she should act.  _Is it appropriate to kiss him good morning? No, that would imply a far more intimate ... relationship._   _It would be too presumptuous._  Effie wasn't even sure the exact term to coin what was going on between them. In the end, she decided it was far better to act normal.

She had spent the entire night replaying the incident at the elevator in her mind until she succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.

"I've got you this bracelet," she told him as she slipped the golden bangle from her wrist.

He blinked once as he slowly focuses his gaze on the bracelet in her palm.

"It's for you, to match Katniss' gold pin and my golden wig. To look like a team," she extended her palm out for him to take the bangle. He picked it up and held it between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it around to inspect it. The way he was looking at it, it was like Effie had dipped it in poison.

He looked up and sneered at her, his blood-shot eyes pinned hers with a death glare. He leaned forward, his face mere inches from hers. Effie could smell the alcohol on his breath and she gagged.

"Do you even know what that pin symbolises, Effie?" he hissed at her.

"It's the latest ... fashion. Everyone's wearing it, I just thought -"

He shook his head, "Fashion. Really, Eff, really?"

She stared at him, not understanding his derisive tone. He held out his wrist and let her put it on him nonetheless.

"Katniss and Peeta have to be at the training centre by 10 am. Well, don't forget to have breakfast; it's not good to drink on an empty stomach. Not good to drink at all actually. I'm going to the Games Headquarters like you've asked me yesterday. Talk to any potential sponsors," she informed him of the schedule.

Haymitch waved her off as he staggered and made his way to his bathroom.

XxX

Effie was overwhelmed. She and Haymitch had been talking to the mentors from the different districts who had requested to have Katniss as their ally during the Quell ever since the first day of the training.

"Has she made up her mind yet? The Private Session is tomorrow. We haven't got much time," she reminded him.

"Relax, sweetheart."

Returning back to the Penthouse, she was quick to slip off her heels and sat on the sofa, letting her aching feet rest. Haymitch took one glance at her and gave a scathing snort.

"Go soak your feet, told you your heels will kill you."

"I'm still alive," she told him, laughing.

XxX

"All right, how did your private sessions go?" Haymitch asked Peeta and Katniss.

Effie observed as they exchanged a look with each other. She felt a sunken feeling in her stomach remembering the stunt Katniss pulled last year. Her face didn't betray her emotions as she asked if Peeta had painted a picture of Katniss.

Effie's voice began to waver as Peeta told them about painting a picture of Rue.  _Doesn't he know that it would get him in trouble? One does not go against the Capitol like that!_

She nearly missed out when Katniss told the table how she hung a dummy of Seneca Crane. The silence on the table of was so thick, it was suffocating. Cinna spoke first, expressing his disbelief, followed by Effie.

"Oh, Katniss," Effie said, swallowing the lump in her throat, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. "How do you even know about that?"

Overwhelmed with emotions, Effie excused herself from the table. Once in her room, she locked herself in the bathroom not wanting Haymitch to find her in case he came looking. She doesn't want to explain to Haymitch why the mention of Seneca Crane got her all emotional.

She had not lied to Haymitch during the Harvest Festival when he asked. Seneca  _was_  a good friend. He was one of her closest friends before their respective careers pulled them apart. It would not do them any good for an Escort to be seen too friendly with the former Head Gamemaker, it would be seen as currying favour. That was the nature of Capitol politics, people talked and rumours would spread faster than wild fire.

She grabbed a few pieces of tissue and dabbed her eyes. Her make-up was a mess from all the tears she shed. She sighed, thinking of the time she now had to spend painstakingly reapplying her make-up. Looking at the mirror, she frowned at the sight of her red eyes. She can't hide her red eyes. Everyone would know that she had been crying.  _Well, nothing I could do about that_.

Glancing one last time at the mirror to ensure she looks presentable, Effie stepped into the sitting room to join the rest of the team as they watched the training score.

XxX

Twelve. Each of them had scored a Twelve.

Effie smiled happily but her smile slowly faded as she realised that what Haymitch said was true. With a training score like that, they would be a target for the rest of the Victors. The game play was to always eliminate the threat first and that's exactly what they are.  _I supposed President Snow would love that,_  the traitorous thought entered her head.

Haymitch dismissed Katniss and Peeta before flopping down rather ungracefully on the sofa, signalling to an Avox to bring him a drink.

"Are you okay?" Portia asked Effie, giving her a warm hug.

"Yes. Yes, it's just... the stress, you know?"

Cinna and Portia nodded empathetically. After bidding her goodnight, they left Effie alone with an irritated and angry Haymitch.

Effie approached him and sat down. He was absent-mindedly twisting the golden bracelet around his wrist.

"What's on the schedule tomorrow?" Haymitch asked after a while.

"We have to coach them for their interview the day after," reciting what she knew from memory. "Shall I take Katniss first, just like last year?"

"No," he swirled the red wine in the glass. "Let them have the day to themselves. Cancel it."

"Let them go unprepared for the interview?" her voice rising in disbelief. "Haymitch, I understand that you are not happy with the stunt they pulled but don't you think this is taking it a bit too far? You're their men-"

"Don't tell me how to do my job. I told you to cancel it; do it. They can handle themselves in public."

"Fine," Effie snapped. She grabbed a pad on the table in front of her and began to write a note for Katniss and Peeta. Once it was done, she handed it to the Avox to be delivered to them tomorrow.

"Thank you. Be sure that one of them gets it," she told the Avox. She turned to bade Haymitch goodnight only to find him lounging on the sofa with his eyes closed. She nearly reached the door to her bedroom when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Are you gonna fall apart the next time Crane's name is mentioned?" he asked, cracking his eyes open.

She hesitated before turning around to answer him. "No..."

"Good. I can't ... I don't know how to handle..."

"I know."

She lingered, unsure where this conversation was heading.

"You sure he's only a friend?"

"Yes. We had this conver-"

"I know. To be certain. Can't have a fellow colleague depressed over someone's death all the time, can we?"

_Colleague? Is that all she was to him?_

She narrowed her eyes. She understood that Haymitch probably couldn't care less about Seneca's death. In his eyes, Seneca Crane was probably nothing more than a child murderer. Still, couldn't he understand that Seneca was her friend and that she had at one point of time cared about him?

"He was my friend, Haymitch. It might be difficult for you to understand the depth and value of friendship seeing as how you have none, but he was my friend so excuse me if I am grieving over his death."

Effie knew that was a low blow but she was angry. She turned and stalked into her room before she could say anything that would worsen the situation. She saw the anger burning in his eyes just before her door closed.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Not Collins.**

* * *

Chapter 11

By the time dawn broke and the sunlight began to filter through the windows of Effie's room, she was already awake and completing her morning ablutions. She sat in front of her vanity mirror thinking about the way she treated Haymitch yesterday.

It was rude, definitely. It was not in her nature to lose control in such a manner, to snap at someone in anger. She leaned forward and began to carefully apply eye shadow.

 _I'll apologise,_  she thought.  _I'll go up to him later and apologise for my appalling behaviour._

Effie studied her schedule. It was a relatively short day. She had on short notice scheduled a lunch appointment with two potential sponsors, seeing as how she no longer had to coach Katniss and Peeta.  _Haymitch would not be happy,_  she thought. She was sure that he had already planned to spend his time drinking the arrays of liquor and wine the Capitol had to offer. It was not that Effie thought so lowly of Haymitch but after nearly 10 years of working together there were some aspects of Haymitch behaviour that were downright predictable.

Katniss and Peeta were already gone by the time Effie made her way to their room to check on them. She panicked and began to pace the length of the hallway up and down, muttering quietly to herself.

The incessant tapping of her heels on the floor must have woken Haymitch up because he poked his head out of his room and snarled at her, "Will you stop that! Some of us are trying to sleep!"

She whirled around and ran straight for him. "They're gone, Haymitch! Katniss and Peeta! I can't find them in their room!"

"Yeah, so?" he blinked tiredly at her.

"Be serious. Did you even heard what I said? They're not in their rooms."

"Look, sweetheart, I know you're always as uptight as your corset, but please... learn to calm down. They have a free day today; they're probably somewhere spending what little free time they have together."

She pursed her lips.

"Where could they possibly have gone to?"

"Exactly. If they're not here, they're probably up on the roof. The only other place they have access to," he pointed out the obvious to her. He proceeded to close the door on her but Effie was quick enough to place her palm flat on the wooden surface of the door to stop him.

"Listen... Ah, about yesterday... I didn't mean... I'm sorry. I apologised for the way I talked to you, for snapping at you like that. It's just... He was my friend but, believe me, when I say I will have better control of my emotions in the future," she told him earnestly.

When he didn't reply, she grew uncomfortable and stared at her heels; her hand gripped the clipboard containing her schedule tightly. She heard him grunt in response.

"Yeah, okay. Apology accepted."

She dragged her eyes to his waiting for him to say more.

"That's it?" she asked rather incredulously. "Just simply 'apology accepted'?"

He frowned and shut his eyes, leaning his forehead against the doorframe. Effie realised that Haymitch was not going to apologise for mocking her as she cried over Seneca's death and that "apology accepted" was as good as she was going to get with regards to yesterday's matter.

Changing the subject, Effie informed him, "We're having lunch with Mrs. Anthea Watson and Mr. Zacharias Burdette. So, please, be ready by 12."

His eyes flew opened and stared at her. "What? No. No, this was not in the schedule yesterday."

"It wasn't but it is now. They're potential sponsors, Haymitch. We have to meet them."

Haymitch turned and went back into his room, motioning for Effie to follow him. He relieved Effie of her clipboard and proceeded to scribble a note on the margins of her schedule. When he returned it to her, she squinted as she tried to make sense of the almost illegible writings.

_**Give me a list of all the sponsors we have later on. Need to share** _ _._

She frowned.  _Share? What does he even mean by that? Sponsors are not meant to be shared and most importantly, with who?_

Her confusion must have been apparent because he once again grabbed her clipboard and scrawled on it.  _ **Will explain later.**_

 _Trust him,_ a little voice said at the back of her mind,  _he asked you to trust him remember?_  She nodded at him and walked out of his room.

XxX

Lunch went relatively well; Effie dared consider it went better than her expectations.

Five minutes to noon, Effie paced anxiously at the sitting room waiting for Haymitch to come out from his room. When noon came and passed, Effie sighed and went to collect Haymitch from his room and ensure that he looked as presentable as she could make him to be.

They had arrived late for their lunch appointment and Effie looking slightly flustered had apologised profusely to Mrs. Watson and Mr. Burdette.

Effie had always been the one to talk to the sponsors even though she was not allowed to make a deal with them. She would always refer them to Haymitch, the only person who could close the deal.

So, Effie was rather surprised when Haymitch made a conscious effort to engage in the conversation instead of sitting sullenly as he usually did. However, her surprise at Haymitch's actions were somewhat unfair to him, having had a history of sending Katniss the sponsor gifts that she used to great effect during the 74th Games. Effie knew when Haymitch decided to put in the effort, he could be quite the charmer.

Effie was enraptured by the way he was now charming Mrs. Watson. His eyes never left hers, and he leaned forward, resting his upper body weight on his elbow on the table to show his interest in whatever tale Mrs. Watson was regaling him with.

 _He must really need those sponsors,_ she thought to herself.

Effie turned to speak to Mr. Burdette only to find that he too had been drawn to the conversation Haymitch was having with Mrs. Watson.

As they finished the last of their desserts, Effie and Haymitch rose simultaneously and shook hands them.

"I'll be sure to look for you, Haymitch dear, when the Games start in a few days time," Mrs. Watson told him, patting Haymitch's arms affectionately. Haymitch inclined his head and smiled at her.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Burdette, Mrs. Watson," Effie said as she shook both of their hands.

Walking back towards the Training Centre, Effie turned to Haymitch, a curious smile on her lips, "What was that? Never seen you like that before."

"What was what?"

"That, back there." She waved her hands carelessly.

"That was me actually doing my job. Like you've told me to for years," he smirked at her.

"It would have been better if we had actually arrived  _on time._  First impressions, you know?" she reprimanded him.

"Nah. We arrived just perfect. Kept them on their toes, made them anxious. Now they're interested,"

Effie started as realisation dawned on her.  _This was the Haymitch Abernathy that won the Games; smart and cunning. This is the Haymitch that the Capitol was afraid of. Not the drunk Haymitch; the drunk Haymitch was harmless, a laughing stock._

XxX

Arriving at their Penthouse, Haymitch went straight for the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He raised the bottle as a silent question to Effie, to ask if she wanted a glass. She shook her head.

Cinna and Portia were sitting on the sofa, deep in discussion. Effie didn't like the look on Cinna's face, it spoke of an impending problem.

"What's the matter?"

Cinna waved to her and motioned for her to take a seat.

"The dress I designed for Katniss for tomorrow's interview? Well, it's a no go."

"Why?" Effie asked, alarmed. She absolutely abhorred those last minute problems that tend to crop up from time to time and threaten to ruin the entire event.

"President Snow had personally ordered that Katniss puts on this wedding dress," he pointed to the dress covered in a black bag.

Haymitch was quicker. He had already picked the bag and was unzipping it when Portia warned him to be careful with it.

"Might work in their favour. The Capitol would be reminded of how tragic their life story is. A boy hopelessly in love with a girl who was thrown into an arena with him and now, when they are finally getting married, they're about to be pulled apart."

Effie hummed in agreement. "I could work with that."

"What would Peeta be wearing?" Effie asked, turning towards Portia.

"A tuxedo, something fitting for a groom."

"Don't worry. Portia and I had some ideas. I could make some alterations with this dress. You'll see, it would be wonderful," Cinna told them with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Instead of feeling comforted, Effie grew worried and a terrible feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Little did she know that that would be the last time all four of them would be gathered in the Penthouse together.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The starlight shone and twinkled in the dark skies outside. Effie sat by her window, sipping a hot cup of tea. She could hear the distant sound of engines, bright neon lights from the few establishments that took the opportunity during the time of the Games to expand their business profits.

But no matter how late into the night it was, there would be parties scattered across the Capitol. Birthday parties, stag parties, hen nights, and the worst of all were the parties thrown to celebrate the Games. Effie had been to a few of these parties before she became an Escort. She had placed bets, commented on the Tributes' strengths and weaknesses, even made predictions on training scores. She had enjoyed it. Oh, she was truly naive.

She allowed her mind to wander off but even so, her thoughts ultimately led her back to one man. One infuriatingly callous man who, despite his brash and rude attitude, not to mention his constant total disregard for manners had managed to worm his way into her heart.

Effie noted with a single glance at the clock on her wall that it was nearly three in the morning, her body crying out for rest. Not that she needed reminding of the events of the next day.

She had been up all night, worried about the impending interviews to be conducted the following day. Katniss and Peeta had not been coached in the proper manner to participate in one, but strangely, Haymitch was almost devoid of worry and was almost worthy of being poster boy for calm and composure. Effie did, though; it was her job to worry over such things. She knew how Katniss was, how stubborn and mule-headed the girl could be. There was a distinct possibility that she would say something remiss or damaging. A slip of the tongue, just one, would be enough to attract unwanted trouble.

In the current restive situation, with the recent uprisings in several districts and whispers in the shadows of matters as serious as a rebellion, it was imperative, now more than ever that one watched what they said. Especially in the Capitol.

Standing up, Effie decided to make her rounds around the Penthouse and ensure that everyone, especially Haymitch, were where they were supposed to be. That was to say, sound asleep in their respective beds.

Walking down the hallway, Effie began her slow rounds and when she finally reached Haymitch's room, she turned the door knob and poked her head inside. His bed was made and had not been touched. Stepping inside his room, Effie began to check around, softly calling his name. She twisted the handle to the bathroom fully expecting him to have passed out on the floor in a pile of his own vomit.

Her heart began to race when she realised that he wasn't in his room. He wasn't anywhere.  _Oh, where could he possibly be!_  Effie fumed to herself. If she received a call from one of her superiors to inform her that Haymitch had once again created public nuisance in his drunken state, she would kill him, figuratively speaking.

_That's odd._  Even when Haymitch decided to visit one of the bars in the Capitol, usually with Chaff in his tow, he had never returned home this late. But Chaff was a tribute this year, he did not have the freedom of movement that Haymitch had.

Effie decided to wait for him at the sitting room. That way when he walks in, she would know. Effie planned to give him a blistering earful.

XxX

"Wake up. Wake up, sweetheart," a hand gently shook her shoulders. She cracked an eye open and immediately bolted upright into a sitting position. She must have dozed off while waiting for him.

"What time is it?" she asked blearily. She could make out Haymitch's silhouette against the darkness, the only source of light around coming from a small lamp affixed to the wall of the sitting room.

"Don't know. Must be morning."

_Well, that was helpful._  Her eyes fixed at a spot behind his shoulder and read out the time on the clock. 4.15 am.

He plopped down on the sofa next to hers and propped his feet on the table. She made a noise to show her disapproval at his behaviour.

"What's the matter? Bed bugs scared you off? That the reason you fell asleep unglamourously on the sofa?" his tone mocking her.

She glared at him.

"I was waiting for you. Where have you been?"

He shifted in his seat, and brought a hand up to cover his eyes. To block out the sight of her.

"Out."

"Out where? Do you know what time is it? You should be –"

"Dear God, Eff. You're neither my mother nor my wife and I am a fully grown man. I go where I want, whenever I want, do whatever I want. So, please... shut up," he said, his head swivelled in her direction to pin her with a glare.

Her mouth snapped shut. He was right.  _I am neither his mother nor his wife. I am nobody to him._  Her heart clenched painfully at that thought. When she spoke next, her voice was considerably softer, afraid to ruffle his feathers.

"I was just worried." She paused. "About the interviews. About you. What if you passed out drunk somewhere out there and... And never made it home?"

"This is not home," He muttered softly, gesturing towards the Penthouse. He opened his eyes and half turned his body to face hers. "I'm back now. So quit worrying. I went to the bar, like always."

And before she could reply, Haymitch had placed a quick light kiss on the corner of her mouth and left her sitting there alone in the dark.

_He does this_ , Effie realized,  _he does this to get out of trouble_. The kiss on the elevator - she had been mad at him. Now, she was once again angry with him and he had kissed her to distract her.  _Oh, that man is extremely cunning._

Effie should feel flattered, she supposed. As far as she knew, Haymitch was uncomfortable with human contact. When Mrs. Watson had patted his hand, Effie saw the muscles in his jaw clench as he gave her a tight smile. He didn't go out of his way to show his affection to others either. The hugs or the need to touch others were done borne out of necessity.

On the other hand, Haymitch didn't seem to mind much when it came to Effie. She wasn't even sure if Haymitch realised it himself. It could be attributed to the fact that they have worked and known each other for years.

_The bar?_  Effie scoffed in derision. That was a lie. Haymitch lied to her. He was keeping something from her. She knew Haymitch, knew him enough to know that every time he came back from the bar, the air around him would be permeated strongly with the smell of alcohol and Effie would be forced to maintain her distance lest she lose the contents of her stomach.

That wasn't the case this time. She could still smell the hint of liquor on his breath but it wasn't as strong and he wasn't even his usual drunken self.

Whatever it was that Haymitch was hiding from her, Effie knew it must have some connections to the recent uprisings. Some link to the plan he spoke of that day of the Reaping when they were in a train enroute to the Capitol.

Effie had to remind herself to trust him. Still, she couldn't help the anxiety building in her. She had been trained prior to becoming an Escort the importance of knowing everything regarding the tributes and the teams. It was her job to ensure everything ran smoothly and she could not fulfil that part of her duty if she constantly had to find things out on her own. This - whatever Haymitch was hiding from her – had completely thrown her off her game.

But surely, Haymitch would inform her if there was anything important? He had proven himself so far, he had told her about the uprisings in District 7 and 11, told her about President Snow and Katniss. Effie trusted Haymitch, she really did. Still, it didn't change the slight hurt she felt at being kept out of the loop.

As her mind played over the events of the past few days, she finally noticed that Haymitch had on several occasions disappeared for a while; that there was a pattern to his seemingly random disappearances. Could it be? Could there be a secret meeting, somewhere? Something she was not privy to?

Her throat constricted with the suspicion, suddenly everything seemed much more dangerous, more real.

How much danger was she in? Most importantly, how much danger were they all in? If Katniss and Peeta were going back to the arena, Effie felt like she was in an arena of her own - had been in an arena of her own for 10 years, since she started as an Escort. Unlike the tributes, her fight was not against another opponent with a powerful and more lethal weapon. No, her fight was against lies, deceits and politics.

At the moment, the game they were playing was bigger and dirtier. Effie was not more important than the plan Haymitch mentioned to her in passing. It was a bitter admittance, but if what Haymitch had planned could bring Katniss and Peeta out alive a second time, if it involved the uprisings then that would by nature be of higher priority. Effie was not completely oblivious. She realised that if the rumours of the Rebellion were true, they could soon be facing a full scale war. Effie decided to let the issue rest, she would trust Haymitch. He would never let any harm befall her.

XxX

From where Effie was sitting, three rows behind the stage where Caesar Flickerman was conducting the interviews, Effie watched the big screen in amazement.

The camera had panned out to capture the reaction of the Capitol citizens as Katniss stepped out in her white wedding dress. They were breaking down - some crying and clutching each other, others shaking their head sadly at the tragic romance of Katniss and Peeta.

"I have never seen them acting this way before," Effie commented to Haymitch who nodded grimly.

Effie along with the rest of the crowd gasped out loud as Katniss' dress burned and transformed, the colour changing from pure white to coal black.  _She had turned into the bird on her pin_ , Effie thought.  _A mockingjay._  Haymitch had told her and explained to her all about the mockingjay. He had wanted to educate her that the mockingjay was more than just a fashion statement.

_A symbol of rebellion_ , that much Effie had gathered from his story. A symbol of the Capitol's failure.

Effie's eyes cut to Cinna who had just taken a bow at the behest of Caesar Flickerman. This was what he meant by 'slight alteration'? That would get him in trouble. Effie fidgeted in her seat, a smile still plastered on her face in case the camera zoomed in on the Escort for District 12. Beside her, Haymitch patted her knee, once, twice, a warning for her to calm down. He must have felt her tensed up beside him. Effie glanced up at him and she knew, that he had already known beforehand what Cinna had planned.

If Effie thought nothing else could surprise her, she was wrong. When Peeta announced that Katniss was pregnant, she felt the air leave her and her heart beating painfully in her chest.  _Was it true? What Peeta said, was it all true or what this just another ploy to save Katniss?_

She turned to Haymitch for confirmation and the slight wrinkle on his eyebrows gave him away. He didn't know about this either. The crowd was in an uproar, calling for an end to the Games. The thought that the star-crossed lovers were married and now, Katniss with child about to be thrown back into the arena was too much, too barbaric even for the most Games loving citizen.

As the tributes stood and held hands, united in one straight line, Effie's hand flew to her neck, clutching the pendant hanging on a silver necklace. Her eyes widened at this rare display of unity. She felt Haymitch started beside her and grabbed her upper arms in a tight grip. He tugged her arms, urging her to move forward. Together, with Haymitch leading the way, they managed to fight off the throngs of people, Capitol attendants and Peacekeepers back to the Training Centre.

"Haymitch... Haymitch!" she struggled to be heard.

"What?"

"My arm, please, you're hurting me." He promptly released her.

"Sorry." He ran his hand over his face.

"Effie, listen -"

"Miss Trinket?" A Capitol attendant approached her with a Peacekeeper by his side. "Miss Trinket, come along."

The Peacekeeper nudged the small of her back with the barrel of a gun, urging her to move towards the entrance of the Training Centre.

"Hey! Get your hands off her." Haymitch snarled at the Peacekeeper.

"What's going on?" Effie turned to the attendant, her voice as cold as ice. She did not appreciate being treated in such a manner.

"Everyone has been ordered to go home. All escorts, stylists and prep teams. All Capitol citizens are to go home immediately."

She distinctly heard a rough male voice in the background shouting and asking to be released. It sounded like the Escort for District 6.

"But, tomorrow is..." she yelped as the Peacekeeper's gloved hands closed around the same arm Haymitch had grabbed earlier and roughly pulled her forward.

Haymitch moved to intervene by grabbing her wrist and tugging her towards him. At the same time, with this other hand he tried to shove the Peacekeeper away but Effie's voice stopped him.

"It's... It's alright, Haymitch. I'll see you, tomorrow." His gripped on her wrist loosened before she was pulled away.

She craned her neck to look at him one last time before he was swallowed by the crowd. He had looked worried and definitely angry. Effie tried to look for Cinna or Portia, but it was impossible. She wouldn't be able to find anyone in this crazy horde of people. It was safer for her to actually try and make it back to her apartment before the mob squashed her to death.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Excuse me!" She squeezed past a tall young man whose face had been tattooed, and whose eyebrow was lined with an assortment of gems.

"Sorry," a woman told her as she collided and stepped into Effie's shoes.

It was madness. Effie felt her windpipe constrict as a whole new set of fear sank in. How was she ever going to make it back home?

Effie was nothing if not determined. It took her longer than normal but she did make it home. She collapsed on the sofa in utter exhaustion, thankful for the eerie silence of her apartment after the chaos she had to endure.

She jumped and clutched her heart when the loud ringing of her phone broke the silence.

"Effie Trinket speaking."

"Where have you been? I've been trying to call you for the past half an hour, Trinket."

_Haymitch._  She sighed and tried to regain control of her breathing. She leaned her forehead against the wall.

"I just got home, Haymitch. Is something wrong? Are Katniss and Peeta okay?"

There was silence on the other end, long enough for Effie to wonder if Haymitch had passed out on the phone.

"They're sleeping. They sent their love, Eff. Said you were the best escort."

Effie's breath caught in her throat as she choked out a sob. After all the stress and the events for the past few days, Effie was overwhelmed with emotions by Haymitch's message.

In all her years working as an Escort, a despicable a job as it was, nobody - not her superiors, not her tributes, no one - had ever told her that.

"Effie?"

"I'm still here. I'm just... Oh, they're such sweet, sweet kids. I won't get to see them tomorrow, will I? Before they're launched into the arena?"

"No."

She nodded sadly, even though Haymitch would not be able to see her.

"You said you've been calling since half an hour ago. To pass me that message?"

"What? Oh. I was just... I wanted to make sure that you... Yes, to pass that message."

Effie smiled.  _He had wanted to check on me_ , she thought giddily to herself.

Beneath the tough drunken exterior that he was to the world, Haymitch cared about people, more than he was comfortable with. He cared entirely too much. He may not have fulfilled his duty as mentor to the tributes that came before Katniss and Peeta, but their deaths still shook him to the core and he drank more and more each year to forget the pain; to forget their faces.

And Effie knew that he did care about her well-being, he just had his own way of expressing it. Why else would he make it a point to keep things from her? To tell her information he only deemed necessary? It wasn't because he didn't trust her, it was because he feared the danger the information would put her in.

"Have you heard anything from Portia and Cinna? I'm worried. The alteration with Katniss' dress... Cinna -"

Haymitch cut her off before she could say anything. There were times, like that very instance, when Haymitch's warning slipped her mind. The possibility that her phone could be taped.

"Yes. They called before I got you. They're both fine."

"That's a relief. Haymitch, I'm exhausted and I should really go to bed. I'll be at the headquarters tomorrow. Will you be there or will you be watching the games from the Penthouse?"

"I'll be there. See you." he hung up before Effie could even say goodbye.

XxX

Effie arrived at the Games Headquarters half an hour before the launch was scheduled. When she stepped in to the big circular room with its red carpeted flooring, some of the sponsors were already there.

They had gathered around the refreshment table, talking and laughing with one another. Effie approached them and began to make small talk.

As the time of the launch for the 75th Hunger Games neared, escorts and mentors from all twelve districts began to trickle in. Out of the corner of her azure blue eyes, Effie saw the figure of Haymitch striding into the Games Headquarters and headed straight to one of the private viewing rooms. The viewing rooms were arranged next to each other in a circle with the refreshment table and the main hallway located in the middle.

"Hello, Haymitch," she greeted him warmly. Haymitch was pouring himself a glass of Scotch and he turned around at the sound of her voice.

"Got home okay yesterday? Saw the crowds from the Penthouse, figured it would be quite a challenge."

"It was." She nodded.

Both Effie and Haymitch settled in to watch the countdown, their eyes fixed on the screen.

"I wonder what the arena would be like this year. Plutarch Heavensbee would want to make an impression. This being his first year as Head Gamemaker and all."

"Hmm," Haymitch replied, sipping his drink. On screen, all twenty four tributes had been raised on their platforms and Effie saw the arena for the first time. Her eyes widened in amazement. It was remarkable. It was as circular as the Games Headquarters. Effie briefly wondered if Plutarch had gotten his inspiration from Headquarters itself.

"They can't swim, can they?" Effie asked, biting her lips worriedly. "They'll be stuck on that metal plate."

"Finnick will be there. He'll help them if it comes to it."

She turned to him questioningly.

"Alliance," he explained to her simply.

She was about to ask him more when the gong sounded and Effie saw Katniss jumped into the water swimming straight to the Cornucopia.  _She can swim._  As Katniss and Finnick stood sizing each other up, Effie caught side of the glinting gold metal bangle on his wrist the same time Katniss did. Her eyes immediately flew to Haymitch's right wrist, the very wrist he had held out to her for her to fasten the bangle on a few days before. There was nothing on it. Haymitch had given his bangle to Finnick.

"Smart move," she commented, understanding Haymitch's motives enough to know it was his way to send Katniss a message.

He smirked at her. "Peeta and Katniss didn't want any alliance. I had to choose it for them."

"Cinna and Portia should be back by now. I wonder where they are," Effie commented curiously.

Haymitch ignored her. "I need you to go out there now and get sponsors. Give me the list and we'll see how it goes."

Walking out of the room, Effie plastered a big smile on her face as she began the tedious process of charming and talking to sponsors. She noted down names and the amount they were willing to contribute, nodded empathically when they commented on how tragic it must be for Katniss and Peeta and tried to play the pregnancy card as much as she could.

She felt someone tapped her on her shoulder and she spun around. She came face to face with Portia whose expressive eyes reflected her worries.

"Have you seen Cinna?" she whispered to Effie.

She shook her head and glanced around. The stylists for the rest of the districts were already in the headquarters, everyone except Cinna.

"I waited for him outside the Launch Room once I had safely sent off Peeta but I didn't see him. I came here straight away."

"Could he be at the Penthouse?"

"No. We planned to come here straight. Are we even allowed back to the Penthouse? Anyway, I tried calling the Penthouse, too. Just in case. But no one was there."

"I'm sure he got delayed somewhere. You know how Cinna is, famous and too nice to everyone. Someone probably held him up for a chat." Portia did not look convinced but she nodded anyway. "I'll tell you if I hear anything."

She rushed back to the viewing room to inform Haymitch of Cinna's disappearance but he was on the phone. His face was grim, the muscle on his jaw tensed and his fist was clenched on his side. Something was definitely wrong.

"Something's happened?" she asked.

"Has Cinna came back?" he asked her back.

"No. I was just about to inform you that he's not here. Who was on the phone?"

"It doesn't matter. Listen, Cinna is... He's been taken by the Peacekeepers."

Effie gasped and her hand flew to cover her mouth. Tears began to gather in her eyes and Haymitch stepped forward and guided her to the sofa.

"I'm going to find Portia. She's outside, right?" he asked. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Wipe away your tears, Eff. You can't let people know something is wrong."

She nodded. That was all she could manage as she tried hard to hold back more tears. She had heard stories, while she was growing up, about people who had been taken away by Peacekeepers. They never came back. They disappeared. The Peacekeepers became a notorious legend in which parents in the Capitol used to scare off their kids when they misbehaved. The Boogeymen of the Capitol, some called them.

She knew, deep within her heart that she would never see Cinna again. But she refused to believe it; part of her wished she was wrong.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

 

**Chapter 14**

"Is this your token?" Katniss asked Peeta.

Haymitch sat straighter and focused his gaze on the pendant hanging around Peeta's chain. He frowned and turned towards Effie.

"How did he get that chain? I didn't notice it before."

"I gave it to him."

"With a mockingjay engraved on it?"

"Yes. He wanted to something to match Katniss' token."

"So, the pendant you gave him just  _happened_  to have a mockingjay engraved on it?" he questioned Effie.

Effie flushed and stammered out an answer, "Well, no. It... It belonged to me; my father gave it to me. I took it to a shop to get it engraved and gave it to Peeta."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed and he hissed at Effie, "That was stupid. I told you what that symbol meant and you went to a shop to get it engraved? What were you thinking?"

"They won't suspect anything, Haymitch. I told you gold is all the rage this season and people will just think I'm keeping up with the latest fashion."

"You better damn well hope that's all they think. Because if the shopkeeper recognises that chain around Peeta's necklace and links it back to you, you are in trouble."

Effie grew worried and began to gnaw on her lower lip. At the same time, Haymitch downed the last of his liquor and stood up.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find the mentor for District 4. Now, give me the sponsor list," he held out his hand for her clipboard. She tore a piece of paper and handed it to him, pressing the clipboard close to her chest. Haymitch raised an eyebrow at her reluctance to part with it.

Haymitch studied the list she gave to him as he walked out, mumbling quietly to himself. "Find more sponsors, Eff," he instructed before he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

XxX

When the anthem played over the sound system, as if by silent agreement, everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and focused their eyes on the screen. The sponsors were anxious to know if they had placed their bets on the wrong tributes and sponsored the wrong district. The mentors, Effie could tell, were on edge as they waited for the faces of the victims to be shown, fearful and scared to know which of their friends had been mercilessly killed in the bloodbath.

_Eight_ _dead on the first day,_ she thought sadly. While the number of dead was considerably lesser than the bloodbath of the previous years, in retrospect, it was different this year because these people were Victors. They were famous in the Capitol at one point or the other and they were worshipped by the Capitol citizens. People knew them.

"Oh, a sponsor gift!" Effie heard someone coo. She turned around to face the large main screen hung at the Games Headquarters.

A silver parachute floated steadily and dropped from the sky, landing neatly before Katniss and her group of allies. Like everyone else, Effie was anxious to know what was in that silver parachute.  _Had Haymitch sent them food?_

When Peeta untied the cord binding the parachute and retrieved a small metal object. Effie frowned and truth be told, it was the most anti-climactic feeling Effie had felt for a long time. She had no idea what that was or how it functioned. Walking into the viewing room, she sat beside Haymitch.

"What's that thing?"

"A spile. You insert it into a tree and water will flow out from it," Haymitch explained patiently to her.

"Ingenious, but, they don't look like they know what to do with it."

"Katniss will figure it out," he handed the piece of paper listing down the names of sponsors for the Tributes of District 12 back to her. Effie nodded her thanks and smoothed the creases out as best as she could before clipping it back to her clipboard.

"That spile was from us or District 4?" she asked.

"Both. We split the cost of it."

XxX

As night fell, the sponsors, the mentors and the escorts for the various Districts began to leave the Headquarters. Some of the mentors chose to stay, Haymitch included. Seeing Haymitch so focused and determined, Effie decided to stay and keep him company, even if he never asked for it.

He was pouring himself a steady flow of liquor since the past half an hour, his eyes never leaving the screen. Effie was sitting on the sofa, her legs curled beneath her having gotten rid of her heels earlier, and her hands pillowing her head that was resting on the armrest.

"Why don't you go home and get some sleep?" Haymitch asked.

"No, I'll stay here with you. I don't want to miss anything," she said, her eyes blinking sleepily.

"Go to sleep then. I'll wake you up if anything happens," he said.

"Promise?"

"Yeah and, sweetheart?"

"Hmmm?"

"Take off that wig, it looks extremely uncomfortable," Haymitch watched her over the brim of his glass.

Effie gave a soft laugh and shook her head, "No." It had become a game for Haymitch to see if there was anything he could say that would make Effie take off her wig, but his efforts so far were without success.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, the sudden sound of the bell tolling caused her to sit up straight. "I counted twelve," she heard Finnick said to Katniss before there was a blinding flash of lightning and a thunder storm began to kick up.

She turned to look at Haymitch the same time his head swivelled towards her. "Guess we have to watch and see," he said. Effie leaned back against the sofa, no longer sleepy but extremely curious about the arena instead. She had a nagging feeling that the bell represented something significant.

After he was satisfied that Katniss and her allies were in no apparent danger from the thunderstorm, Haymitch left the viewing room muttering under his breath about needing to use the washroom. Effie was too tired to question him and soon, the fatigue took over and she began to drift in and out of consciousness. Even so, she was in a state where she was still vaguely aware of what was going on in the arena.

By the time Haymitch came back, the storm had stopped and the rain began to pour, unleashing a torrent of water on the tributes. Effie glanced at the clock and noted the time. 1.10 am.

"Took quite a while at the washroom, eh?" she teased him. He didn't smile. His jaw was clenched painfully and he looked like he was debating with himself.

"What's the matter, Haymitch?" He frowned and puckered his lips in concentration before settling down beside Effie and took her hand in his.

Effie looked down at their intertwined hands, mesmerised by the sight of her small delicate hands in his large calloused ones before she dragged her eyes back to study his face.

"Eff, I just got news. Portia has been taken by the Peacekeepers, too. She was taken this afternoon when she left Headquarters to return to her house." Effie gasped; her eyes wide with shock.

Haymitch continued; the grip on her hand tightened. "Cinna is dead."

Effie whimpered, feeling herself going numb. She could feel the blood roaring in her ears, her heart thudding painfully in her chest and her breath began to hitch. She felt tears falling slowly down her cheeks, smearing her make-up.

She tried pulling her hand away from Haymitch but he held fast to it. "Effie, Effie," he called out her name softly.

She shook her head, "No, no. Oh God, Portia. Cinna can't be..." she hiccupped. "There must be a mistake. Who told you, Haymitch? Who told you?" her voice sounded hysterical.

Haymitch did the only thing he could think of at that moment. He gathered her in his arms, her face pressed against the crook of his neck as her tears fell hot and fast, soaking his shirt. Effie felt him rubbing her back soothingly and heard him whisper in her ear a name she had not been expecting, "Plutarch Heavensbee. He's with us."

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"What do you mean, Haymitch?" she mumbled against his neck.

"It's not important at the moment. Just know that he's with us."

Effie stayed in Haymitch's arms for what seemed like hours, silently crying at the thought of Portia's and Cinna's fate. Effie was glad she had decided to stay the night because she would not have been able to handle the news on her own. She was glad she was here with Haymitch even though he wasn't the best person to go to for comfort. Still, he did his best; softly stroking Effie's back hoping to calm her.

For the first time since her mother's passing, Effie didn't feel so alone. She felt safe wrapped in Haymitch's arms, though she knew that the Games Headquarters was one of the last places she should feel safe in. Effie was lulled into a strange sort of comfort as she fell asleep curled up on his side.

Her sleep didn't last for long. Effie was woken up when she felt Haymitch tensed and his hand tightened around her. Blinking her eyes open, her attention was immediately drawn on the glowing screen in the room. Katniss and Peeta, along with Finnick and Mags were being chased by thick white fog and Mags, to Effie's confusion had turned around and walked straight to it, her frail body contorting on the forest floor.

XxX

Haymitch had somehow managed to convince Effie to go home and rest despite her initial protest claiming she would no one any favour if she was exhausted. When she reached her apartment, Effie squeezed in a half an hour nap before forcing herself to wake up and take a quick shower. She stood under the shower head and let the water run over her body, her tears mixing with the water streaming down her face.

She might not have known Cinna for long but that short amount of time they had spent together was enough for her to form a bond; a friendship.  _Seneca, Cinna and now, Portia has been taken. How many more_ _lives must be wasted and taken away_ _before all of this_ _madness, this senseless glut of death can finally end?_  She thought bitterly to herself.

She switched on the television, needing to know what was going on as she put on a fresh set of clothes and sat down to apply her cosmetics.

Leaving her house, she glanced over her shoulders frequently feeling slightly afraid and paranoid that like Portia, she too will be taken off the street by Peacekeepers. When she finally reached Headquarters, she walked into the private viewing room just in time to see the tribute from District 6 fling herself at Peeta, saving his life.

"Oh my God," she gasped in horror, watching the woman bleed to death.  _At least, she won't die alone. Sweet, sweet Peeta._  If Haymitch heard her, he chose to ignore her.

Remembering the plate of food on hand that she had managed to grab from the refreshment table outside the viewing room, she offered it to Haymitch.

"You should eat something, Haymitch." He glanced at her and took a blueberry muffin from the plate.

"Their skins have scabbed over. I imagined it must itch." Studying her list of sponsors, she turned around to inform Haymitch, "We have more than enough to send them medicine."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, she heard Katniss request the same from the arena. She grinned and Haymitch frowned. "Send it to them, then."

"And now, I need to discuss with District 4 about sending them bread. See you around," he said, before he left the viewing room.

XxX

Effie spent her time talking to the sponsors and spinning whatever stories she had in her arsenal to convince and persuade them. She found her job slightly easier this year as most of the sponsors had already known Katniss and Peeta as Victors of the previous Games. Furthermore, being two of the most popular Tributes, as well as being in an alliance with the famous Finnick Odair certainly worked in their favour.

Effie glanced towards the big screen and heard Wiress repeated the same two words she had heard her say all throughout the Games whenever the cameras focused on her _._ _Tick tock_.

From the first moment that Effie came across Wiress, the woman had always unnerved her, consistently managing to ruffle the feathers of the notoriously staid Escort. Worst part was she had no idea why.

_Tick tock_ , she repeated.

_Is she counting_ _down_ _till the end_ _of the Games and she can go off? Does she even know where she is?_  Not for the first time, Effie wondered if Wiress was mentally sound. She halted in her steps as a sudden realisation hit her.  _Time. The bell sounded twelve times! Oh my god, there is a pattern to this madness,_ Effie felt a strange mixture of excitement and fear at having figured out Plutarch's arena.

She rushed to find Haymitch and dragged him to the viewing room.

"It's a clock!" she told him in an excited whisper.

"What's a clock?

"The arena! It's a clock, isn't it, Haymitch?"

Haymitch was taken aback and then his expression morphed. He was impressed.

"How'd you figure that one out? Thought your wig would prevent any sort of... thinking on your part," he couldn't help but making a jibe at her. In her excitement, Effie let that jibe slide.

"Yesterday, when the bell sounded, Finnick Odair counted it to twelve; then there was a lightning storm. I must have fallen asleep while you went off to meet Mr. Heavensbee, but when I woke up and check for the time, it was around one in the morning and it was raining in the arena, followed by the fog. It's timed by the hour," Effie explained, her hands moving wildly about her.

"I didn't know you were so smart, Ms. Trinket. Congratulations for figuring it out," he smiled at her, and patted her cheek like a 5 year old.

Effie rolled her eyes. "You were told beforehand, then?"

"Yes. It's quite imaginative, really. This way, the Victors would be able to keep track of the time and they'll know when it's time for..." Haymitch trailed off.

"Before what?" Effie asked, peaked by her mounting curiousity.

"The plan," he mouthed. Effie nodded in understanding. Haymitch would never fully tell her about "The Plan" claiming that the lesser she knew, the safer she would be. Effie couldn't fault or poke holes in the man's logic. He had never told her but Haymitch did have her safety and wellbeing foremost amongst his priorities. Yet, she couldn't help but think about Cinna's tragic end as well as Portia's capture. What made it all the more galling was the fact that Portia probably wasn't kept abreast of any developments; still she was taken and under possible Peacekeeper torture.

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

**Chapter 16**

Effie felt herself being stretched thin. She had done her best to mingle with the different groups of sponsors equally and tried to talk to each one of them individually. She knew the importance of being in their good books even if a handful of them were not interested in District 12.

Ever since Katniss and Peeta had extended their alliance to include Johanna Mason, Wiress and Beetee, Haymitch could be seen deep in talks with the mentor from District 4, 7 and 3. It was up to Effie, as usual, to gather the list of interested sponsor for him to sign the deal later on.

By the time, Effie managed to escape from a particularly chatty sponsor and enter the private viewing room, she saw Katniss diving into a pool of diluted red water towards the floating body of Wiress.

Haymitch, Effie saw was standing in front of the large television screen, hands on his hips. "Smart girl," Effie heard him say as Katniss grabbed the coil of wire wrapped around Wiress's hand.

"What happened? I didn't manage to see."

"Careers."

XxX

Effie's eyes darted towards the clock hanging on the wall.  _Four o'clock._ She watched helplessly as Finnick and Katniss ran smack into a wall that caged them with the jabberjays. Instinctively, Effie clutched Haymitch's hand.

"They'll be trapped with the jabberjays for an hour. Oh, this is horrible. This is so horrible."

Effie tried the best she could to block out the torturous sounds that were being replicated. She tried to imagine what it would feel like if it was her trapped with the jabberjays, forced to listen to the strangled painful cries of her parents or Haymitch. She knew she would break; she wouldn't have been able to handle it. She wasn't as strong as Katniss or Peeta or even Haymitch.

These people from the districts - often mocked by the people from the Capitol for being poor, dirty and uncouth – they were brave and strong. Their living conditions had hardened their hearts and made them fighters.

"Haymitch, any news about Portia?" she asked timidly. Effie was afraid to know the answer but at the same time, she had to know.

Haymitch shook his head, his dirty blonde hair mimicking the movement of his head.  _No news is still good news. No news is still better than Portia being dead,_ she tried to convince herself.

Just as Effie did when the jabberjays began to attack, Haymitch glanced towards the clock and excused himself.

On screen, Effie watched as a silver parachute floated towards the alliance and the twenty four rolls of bread from District 3 were divided amongst the tributes.

XxX

That night, Effie left the Headquarters together with Haymitch. Reaching the lobby of the Headquarters, they parted ways with Effie heading towards her apartment and Haymitch back to the Penthouse.

Giving Haymitch a curt, brief goodbye fearing that they might be seen, Effie stepped out into the cold night and began her slow walk home. The streets were filled with people still celebrating and enjoying the festivities the Games had to offer. They were drinking, singing and laughing about, carefree and happy, terribly in contrast with the heavy feeling that had made a home in Effie's heart ever since Haymitch warned her about the dire consequences of Katniss and Peeta's stunt with the berries.

_Berries,_  Effie scoffed to herself. How could such inconspicuous looking fruit bring about so much trouble?

Effie did not realise how exhausted she was until she slipped under the covers of her bed and promptly fell asleep. She dreamt of her mother that night, and how pitifully she cowered in a corner listening to her mother berating her for bringing shame to her family, for giving her heart to a man from a dreadful district. She whimpered as her mother warned her about the hardship she would have to endure if she continued to pine after the man, and how much easier her life would be if she had settled down and married a nice, rich man from the Capitol. Effie woke up startled and afraid. She had not dreamt about her mother for years and to dream of her now was rather odd.

It took her a few moments to realise that someone was knocking on her door at three in the morning. She slipped into her slippers and tied her robe together. Her fingers were outstretched, ready to twist the door knob open when she faltered.  _What if_ _there're_ _Peacekeepers outside my door?_

She peered into the keyhole and saw Haymitch standing there frequently glancing over his shoulders.  _What is he doing at my door at this ungodly hour?_

She opened the door and before she could say anything, he slid inside her apartment, pressing a finger to his lips asking her to be quiet.

"Haymitch?" she whispered. She knew the routine; she fumbled for the remote control and switched on the television, increasing the volume loud enough for it to drown their voices.

She sat nervously beside Haymitch, her hand twisting together as she studied him. He had bags under his eyes and Effie could not remember the last time he had slept. He looked tired and worn out and, as he leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed and his arm covering his face, Effie was reluctant to disturb this rare moment of peace for him.

After a few minutes, he blinked his eyes open and focused his gaze on Effie. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"I understand."

"I met Plutarch before I came here," he paused. "Eff, listen, listen very carefully. It's happening. Whatever we had planned will happen soon. When it does, you need to get out. Do you have any place to go? A friend or a relative? Someone you trust with your life?"

"Haymitch, you're scaring me," she looked at him, eyes wide with fear. Haymitch grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently.

"I know you are, but you have to set aside that fear for now and listen to me, Effie. This is important. Do you understand?"

When she nodded, he continued, "Is there anywhere you can go? Any place you can hide?"

Effie shook her head.

"No..." she stammered. "I don't have anyone here in the Capitol, Haymitch. My parents are dead, you know that. As for friends... None that I have that I will trust with my life. You're my only friend."

Haymitch blinked, surprised at her admittance. "I... I won't be here. When it happens, I won't be here, Eff. You have to ... Damn it. They'll come after you next, Effie. Those Peacekeepers will come after you. They've already got Cinna and Portia; you are the next link to District 12."

Haymitch grew quiet. He sat with one leg bent on her sofa, the other planted firmly on the ground, his body facing hers as a lone finger trailed his upper lips thinking of a solution.

After awhile, he broke the silence. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you. I'm offended you even –"

"Good. Good. I'll take you to District 13 with me."

"District... What? Are you mad? Thirteen was destroyed!" Effie hissed at him.

"I thought you trusted me?"

"I do, but Haymitch, we all know that Thirteen –"

"It exists. You just have to trust me." Haymitch glanced briefly at the screen to see his tributes still sleeping with Finnick on guard. "When we leave, we're not coming back to the Capitol. You understand that right? We'll be hunted by Snow. Are you prepared for this?"

Effie nodded slowly, her mind racing to make sense of the sudden glut of information. What choice did she have? To stay in the Capitol would mean capture by the Peacekeepers and she really didn't want to imagine the horrors she would be subjected to under their ministrations. On the other hand, to leave and flee with Haymitch would mean she would be hunted like a prey, like a criminal.  _A criminal_ , Effie shuddered at that thought. If she were to follow Haymitch, she would still be able to help them. He may not inform her much about the plans he had with Plutarch Heavensbee and whoever else who are involved, but she could be helpful. She could help them, she wants to help them.

There wasn't a choice; she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"There'll be a full scale Rebellion then? A war?" she asked carefully, softly, her lips barely moving.

"Seems likely."

Effie bit her lips as she tried to rationalise her decisions. Wasn't this what she always wanted? For the Games to end, for the slaughter to stop, for a life where children didn't have to live in constant fear? A world where she didn't have to reap the names of innocent children?

"I'll go with you," the words escaped her lips is a soft firm whisper.

Haymitch gave her a small smile. "Effie Trinket, a rebel. Who'd have thought?"

Who would, indeed?

He cupped her cheek with his large palm and his thumb rubbed back and forth over her smooth skin as he looked at her.

"You look better like this, Eff," he told her. She blushed and averted her gaze, feeling terribly embarrassed. She didn't understand what Haymitch was doing. He had never complimented her on her looks. He took a lock of her hair and ran it between his fingers. "And I was right, you're blonde," he murmured.

And that was when she finally realised she did not have her make-up or her wig on her. She sat in front of Haymitch not as Effie Trinket the Escort but Effie Trinket, a rebel.


	17. Chapter 17

Effie arrived early at the Headquarters the next morning. There were only a handful of people around, most of them mentors whose tributes were still alive in the arena. She went straight for the private viewing room and sank down on the sofa. The journey from her apartment to the Headquarters proved to be a challenge with Effie trying not to let her nervousness show whenever she came across the figure of a Peacekeeper clad in white patrolling the streets.

After Haymitch left her apartment yesterday, Effie couldn't sleep. She spent her time pacing her apartment like a caged tigress, wearing a hole in her carpet. She pulled out books that she had hardly ever touched since she left school and read up all she could on District 13 but all she found were the things she already knew; District 13 was destroyed.

_Trust me._

She walked through her apartment with an air of melancholia about her, her hand trailing over pieces of her furniture. If what Haymitch said was true, she would not be in her apartment for long. They would be leaving the Capitol soon. Effie wished she knew the manner in which they would be leaving. She had so many questions. How was Haymitch supposed to get Katniss and Peeta out of the arena alive?

"Send the bread," she heard Haymitch said. Half of his body was in the viewing room, while his head was outside the door talking to someone.

On screen, Effie saw a silver parachute slowly dropping from the sky carrying the tributes' supply of bread. Effie took her clipboard and scrawled a message for Haymitch,  _ **how will I know when it's time to leave?**_

He squinted to read her message and his eyes briefly flickered to hers.  _ **I'll come for you. Don't go back to your apartment tonight. Find a reason to hang around.**_

Effie nodded and crumpled the piece of paper in her hand.

XxX

Haymitch tugged Effie by the elbow and whispered in her ears. "Half an hour before midnight tonight, I need you to be up on this building's rooftop. There'll be a hovercraft from Thirteen. Plutarch will be on it. Board the hovercraft."

"What about you?"

"I'll be with you. Wait for me at the rooftop. It'll be less suspicious if we're not seen going somewhere together."

"Okay," she answered back. She checked her wrist watch. She had three hours to spare. She used the time talking to the sponsors and trading gossips with the other Escorts, trying to keep up appearances.

It seemed that at the arena, the alliance already had formulated a plan involving the lightning tree to take out the Careers, which meant that with the number of tributes dwindling at such a fast rate, the Gamemakers would have a hand in ensuring that the finale would be upon them soon. And she was certain whatever plan Haymitch had; it involved trying to prevent Katniss and Peeta from having to face the finale.

As the predetermined hour approached, Effie felt almost nauseated with anticipation. She saw the mentor for District 1 throwing Haymitch a dirty look once he figured out that his tributes were the next targets for the alliance. Haymitch smirked at him and with a drink in his hand, slipped into the viewing room. Effie followed him.

"Chaff is still alive," he said in a hoarse whisper.

Effie wasn't sure what to say so she did the first thing that came into her mind. She took Haymitch's hand in hers and rubbed soothing circles on his knuckles. Chaff was a fighter, he would go down fighting and Effie could only imagine the dilemma Haymitch must have been facing. Chaff was his friend, had been his friend for years ever since he became a mentor and on the other hand, there was Katniss and Peeta to think about.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"There is 15 more minutes before I have to go."

"You have to keep up appearances until the very end," he reminded her.

"I know, Haymitch. Don't worry about me. Worry about Katniss and Peeta."

"Of course, I worry about you," he muttered softly that Effie had to strain her ears to catch his words. She brought her gaze down to hide the small smile gracing her lips.

"We'll all be okay. We'll all be together again soon."

"You know, sweetheart, you are far too optimistic," he turned his gaze on her.

"Well, one of us has to be and it looks like it's not going to be you." Effie watched his lips quirk in a sardonic grin. His eyes dropped to her lips, a battle between desire and self- restraint reflecting in the pupil of his eyes.

"If you're going to kiss me, do it, Haymitch," she whispered. He averted his gaze and licked his lips.

"No, I wasn't... I don't..."

"What do you have to lose? Everything we know is about to change soon."

He shut his eyes as if fighting off the desire that was threatening to overwhelm him. Unlike the previous occasion where he had kissed her, Effie was not angry or mad at him. Effie knew that if he kissed her there and then, he would be doing it because he wanted to, not because he was trying to distract her.

Emboldened by the fact that he couldn't see her, her hands fluttered up to stroke his cheek and she leaned forward pressing a soft lingering kiss of his lips waiting for him to make the next move. His reaction was instantaneous, almost a reflex action. He parted his lips and his tongue darted out to circle hers. He placed both his palm to each side of her cheeks, holding her in place. Just as suddenly as he started, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers. His hand trailed down her right arm and he turned his wrist over to check the time.

"Go now. I'll see you at the rooftop."

Effie hesitated feeling apprehensive all of a sudden. "Go," he urged her. "You'll be okay. It's just the rooftop."

She swallowed the lump on her throat and stood up. "Be safe, Haymitch." Almost as an afterthought, she bent down and pressed another soft kiss on his lips.

"Nothing's gonna happen to me between now and when I see you. Go now, Eff."

Nothing would happen to him but little did she know that her own life was about to take a turn for the worse.

 


	18. Chapter 18

The lifestyles of the citizens of the Capitols are extremely different from those that live in the Districts, in the sense that they spend most of their nights out enjoying the wide selection of entertainment available. As a result, they sleep late at night and wake up late into the day. When Effie stepped into the main circular room of the Headquarters, a handful of escorts from several districts could be seen sitting together, eyes still on the Games with drinks in hand. The night was still early.

Effie realised their presence could prove to be problematic. There was only one entrance and one exit, and for Effie to leave the place, she would have to pass by them. Squaring her shoulders, she strode forward, a smile plastered on her face.

"Well, hello, hello," she said. "I wasn't expecting so many of you to still be here! I would have thought the lure of the parties outside would be too difficult for any of you to resist."

A few of them laughed and Dareia, the escort for District 4 waved her over. "Come join us, Effie dear! Your tributes and mine are still in the Games. This will be fun. I wonder what my handsome Finnick has in store. He won't be keeping this alliance for much longer, I'm sure. He will bring glory to his District once again and oh, can you imagine the attention I will receive as his district's escort?"

Effie had to remind herself to keep the smile on her face and not shudder in disgust at Dareia's behaviour. Instead, Effie giggled and playfully swatted her arm.

"Oh, don't be too sure, Dareia. My tributes did win the Games last year and the odds are in their favour in this Quell."

"Now, now, there is no need for this competition, is there? Why don't you just have a seat, Effie, have a drink."

"Oh, I would love to but, I really can't," she said with a hint of disappointment just so they would believe her. "I have somewhere to be! A party I had agreed to go with... Salter. You know Salter, don't you?" Effie asked, turning to the Escort from District 7.

"Salter? The one from my class all those years ago?"

"Yes, the very same."

"Of course, I do. Oh, my dear, dear Effie, I didn't know that you and Salter were..." she giggled. Her face lit up. The prospect of the scandalous gossip she could share with her friends this weekend was too attractive. The escort from District 7 was three years Effie's senior while they were in school and Salter was a boy whose name Effie had the misfortune to pluck out of midair at the very moment.

Effie saw a shadow walking past her out of the corner of her eyes and glancing in that direction, she saw Haymitch making his way out towards the door. At that moment, he turned to look at her. He raised his eyebrows at Effie, conveying a single urgent question.  _What are you doing?_  His eyes fell on the group of escort and his lips quirk in disdain before he left.

"However do you put up with that man, Effie darling? He is positively ghastly and uncouth." Dareia asked.

"I manage," she answered with a smile on her face. She turned her wrist and checked her watch. She was supposed to be up on the rooftop ten minutes ago.

"Oh, let the poor girl go. She does have a date after all," the escort from District 7 smirked at her. "Enjoy your night, if you know what I mean."

Effie managed to blush; the exact reaction the group was expecting because in unison, they all laughed at her discomfort.

"Thank you. See you around, goodbye." Effie waved at them and tried not to look so eager to be able to leave. She was worried about the possibility of not being able to reach the rooftop in time, of Haymitch waiting impatiently for her. He would be worried, she was sure of it.

Effie's hand curled around the handle of the door and she was about to push it open when she heard it; A loud booming sound coming out from the speakers, a shriek from one of the escorts and the sound of glass crashing on the floor.

Her head swivelled and her eyes glued on the huge screen hanging on the wall. A dazzling white bright light had filled the entire screen after a few seconds of confusion, Effie realised that something had exploded. Something in the arena had exploded.

"What's happened? Is that the Games' finale?" the high pitched voice of Dareia cut through the air. In the confusion, Effie managed to slip out of the door and into the long corridor with an elevator at the end of the hallway.

 _The arena had exploded._   _Something exploded._

Effie kept replaying the scene she saw in her mind as she hurried towards the elevator that would bring her to the rooftop. She was so deep in thought that she failed to see three Peacekeepers approaching her from around the corner. She halted and stared at the barrel of a gun pointing straight between her eyes.

"Effie Trinket?" asked one of them.

"Yes?"

"You are under arrest for suspected rebel activities."

Effie paled and felt her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. Beads of sweat had already started forming on her forehead.

"What? No, no there must be a mistake. I'm an Escort, not a rebel!" she struggled as two of the Peacekeepers moved in and grabbed her wrist, forcing her down on her knees.

_Oh god, no, please no. Haymitch. Haymitch is waiting for me._

"Suspected rebel activities, Miss. Trinket. If you cooperate, I'm sure things will run smoothly for you."

"You're treating me like a criminal. Unhand me at once," she screamed at them.

"Shut her up, man," commanded one of the Peacekeepers with a death grip on her right hand.

She saw the man standing before her raise his gun and brought it down hard on her temple. The world blurred around her and still, she fought to stay conscious. If they thought hitting her was going to make her cower, they were wrong. Effie felt the panic intensify in her, the only coherent thought was her desperate need to break free and run to the rooftop, to Haymitch. He would protect her. He would keep her safe. Effie struggled, attempting to free her arm from her captor's grip. She had never imagined that she, Effie Trinket would stoop so low as to bite a man's hand but she did. The Peacekeeper gave a cry of surprise and his friend brought the barrel of his gun down on her temple again.

Her last conscious thought was of Haymitch who was waiting for her on the rooftop before darkness enveloped her.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

When Effie finally regained consciousness, she lay still on the floor, trying to get adjusted to her foreign surroundings. With her eyes screwed shut, too afraid to open them and see for herself the horror she had been thrown into, her other senses adjusted for the lack of sight and became more sensitive, beginning to pick up different sensations around her.

Her ears picked up the slow steady sound of dripping water.  _Drip, drip, drip._  Her nose sniffed the air around her. Effie smelt the putrid air and gagged. The stench of sweat, urine, and blood wafted through the air and surrounded Effie as she lay still on the floor. It smelt of decay. The ground where she was lying on was hard and cold. The wet surface stained her clothes making it damp and uncomfortable, but Effie knew that that was the least of her worries.

Slowly, she began to register the pain. Her head felt heavy and it was pounding, like drums beating in her head. Her mouth was dry and she desperately needed water, she thought. She gingerly brought her hand up to feel her head and her fingers touched something wet and sticky.

She froze and forced herself to open her eyes.  _I'm blind. I'm blind_. She felt the rising panic choking her as she turned her head around, the movement intensifying the pain in her head.  _I can't see_. Then she noticed a dim light reflecting something metallic in the distance. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyesight to the darkness.  _Metal bars._

She brought her hand up to the light and saw the sticky red liquid staining her fingers. With a groan, she pushed herself to a sitting position, wincing in pain and began to take stock of herself. She had full control of her limbs, for now, although her head felt like it might split in two. There were blood trickling down from her temple to her cheek and as she wiped it away, she noticed the bruises and lacerations on her arms and palms from where the Peacekeepers must have dragged her and unceremoniously dumped her on the floor.

Her once beautiful dark purple clothes were dirty and soiled; her wig had been discarded and was now lying at the corner of her cell. She wondered about the time. How long she had been unconscious? How long had she been here in this depressing place?

She thought about Katniss and Peeta, and the rest of the Victors. She imagined Haymitch in a hovercraft enroute to District 13.

 _District 13,_  she thought bitterly.  _Is Haymitch there now? Is he looking for me?_

She realised as she sat there huddled in a corner that she, Effie Trinket, had been taken prisoner; a Capitol citizen taken prisoner by the Capitol itself.  _Just like Cinna and Portia._  She wasn't entirely stupid; she knew that once someone was taken by the Peacekeepers, they would never again see the light of day. She was going to die here, alone in that cell and that thought was enough to bring her to the brink of hysterics.

She tried to muffle her sobs and it only resulted in her choking on her own tears, desperately sucking in air.

"Are you crying in there, little girl?" someone mocked her as laughter echoed around her cell.

Her door slid open and Effie looked up to see the silhouette of three men standing in front of her.

"Be quiet," one of them commanded.

She tried. She tried to stop crying, to not show her fear but she couldn't. She was extremely terrified, she felt herself shaking. The sound of the slap the Peacekeeper delivered to her reverberated loudly and Effie felt the stinging pain on her cheek.

"Do you know who I am?" Effie shook her head.

"My name is Adrian Fox. Head Peacekeeper here in the Capitol," he told Effie with an air of arrogance.

Two of the Peacekeepers grabbed her arm on either side of her, propping her on her feet. Peacekeeper Fox stepped closer, to intimidate her. "Where are Haymitch Abernathy and Katniss Everdeen?"

Effie tried to answer, to tell them that she didn't know and that even if she did, hell would freeze over before she willingly betrayed them, but she wasn't quick enough and she felt the wind knocked out of her as his fist collided into her sternum.

It was at that moment when it dawned on Effie that she would not be shown any mercy.  _You are the last link to District 12_. Haymitch had told her that the night she agreed to follow him to District 13. She was the only person the Capitol had who could provide information about District 12. At least that was what she thought.

She opened her eyes and stared straight at the cold blue eyes of Adrian Fox.

"I don't know."

"I don't think you realise the gravity of the situation you are in, Miss Trinket. It'll be easier if you talk. Not so difficult a task is it? You can't ever shut up at those parties you go to," he said as he grabbed her chin roughly.

"I don't know where they are. Please." She whimpered.

He smirked. "I think you're lying," he leaned down and whispered to her.

"The drunk had never let it slip to you any of his plans? I find that impossible to believe, Miss Trinket."

"He hates me! He hates me, why would he tell me anything!" Effie screamed as he brought a blade and sliced the soft skin of her inner arm. Effie watched with an almost sick fascination as the blood flowed furiously out of the deep cut on her arm onto the floor.

"You ought to be careful what you say to each other, even in private, my love," Adrian Fox placed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth and left her cell, his two lackeys following right on his heels.

Effie crumpled on the floor and curled into a fetal position.

XxX

Effie lost track of time. The days began to bleed into each other. Her cell was in constant darkness that she could not even begin to discern night from day. She deduced that she must be deep down underground where no natural sunlight could ever hope to penetrate.

She had no information to give to the Peacekeepers. Nothing to offer to Adrian Fox that would satisfy him and spare her the pain and agony they seemed to enjoy inflicting on her already abused body.

She would not tell them about District 13. She would not tell them what little she was told.  _Will Haymitch be proud of me?_

She curled tightly into a ball as her mind went through all the names she had been called since she was first brought in. She had nearly laughed in relief when Adrian Fox called her filth and not something he would sully himself with. A traitor, she was unpure according to what she was told. She would be safe, at least, her dignity would remain intact.

She wasn't going to break. She thought of how strong Katniss was, how brave Cinna had been to defy the Capitol in his own way, how resilient Haymitch had proved himself to be by not allowing the Capitol to own him and it gave her strength to keep on fighting. She will keep her mouth shut and the Peacekeepers will not get anything out of her.

XxX

There were times when she was dragged out of her cell and brought to a small room. They would sit her on a metal chair and bind her hands together. The first time she was brought to the room, Effie's eyes were wide open in fear, trying to gather as much information on her surroundings as possible.

There was a small table and several syringes arranged neatly side by side. Peacekeeper Fox had dragged another chair and sat opposite her, facing her with a sneer on his face.

"Just you and me now, in this room," he told her, leaning forward slightly in his seat. "Tell me about the uprisings in the Districts."

Effie's eyes hardened and she stared at him. Her face was swollen, her nose broken from where her face had been repeatedly slammed against the wall in her cell when she refused to cooperate.

"I don't know anything about it," her broken nose causing the words to come out sounding slightly muffled.

Adrian Fox seemed amused by her answer for his lips curled into a malicious grin. He fished something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of her face. Effie focused her gaze on the shimmering object swaying in front of her.  _Peeta's token, the gold chain._   _The only way he could have Peeta's token is if Peeta had been captured. No, no, it can't be. It can't. Haymitch was supposed to get him and Katniss out._

Her breath hitched.

"I believe this belongs to one your tributes and I have it on good authority that you, Ms. Trinket had sent this for an engraving. You had the Mockingjay engraved on this!" his voice rising steadily and by the end of the sentence he was shouting, spitting saliva on her face.

"So, let's try this again, shall we? Tell me about the Rebellion. Tell me about Haymitch Abernathy and tell me where Katniss Everdeen is right now."

Effie jerked her arm in alarm as she felt the soft prick of the needle on her elbow. She watched as the liquid in the syringe was emptied into her blood stream. She had no idea what it was but she felt herself losing grasp with reality.

Effie feared the room. Each time she was brought in, she was injected with that strange substance and under the substance's influence, she was heavily questioned about the Rebellion. Adrian Fox was relentless with his questions on Haymitch and Katniss.

She tried to fight it off. When their names were brought up, she forced herself to push her memories of them out of her mind, tried to think of something else. She was so afraid that she might blurt out information that could be detrimental to the war effort.

She thought of her apartment, her parents, she thought of having a pet if she ever made it out alive. She thought of everything except Katniss and Haymitch.

When the sessions ended and they deposited her back into her cell, she was confused and dazed. She saw things and faces that struck such deep fear within her. She saw her parents pleading for their lives, begging her to save them. She watched in horror as she stood in her glamourous clothes and bright colourful wig laughing at them. She saw Peeta Mellark lying on the cold hard floor bleeding and broken.

It took a few hours before the world slowly began to come into focus and by then, she had usually given up trying to figure out what was real and what was not.

XxX

Effie had never known hunger before, she could never understand starvation but she did now. The dried hard bread thrown into her cell each day was inedible unless the dirty water from the damp cold floor seeped into the bread making it softer. Effie would nibble on it out of desperation, never once did she thought she would be degraded this low.

She opened her eyes as she heard voices down the corridor. Someone was struggling and as the entourage passed by her cell, she watched as two Peacekeepers dragged a body between them. As far as Effie knew, the cell next to her was unoccupied. She had tried that one fateful night as she crawled towards the metal bars, calling out in a desperate whisper, hoping someone would answer her. She was met with silence.

When the Peacekeepers left, laughing among themselves, Effie dragged herself to the edge of her cell, her hands gripping the metal bars tightly. She had lost the use of her right leg when Adrian Fox had stomped on it, breaking a bone.

"Hello? Anybody there?" Effie asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Effie?"

Her heart beat faster. She had not expected any one to answer and to have someone in a cell next to her; someone who recognised her from her voice brought a strange sense of solace in her. Effie strained her ears to catch the voice in the adjacent cell.

"Effie, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. Who are you?"

She waited and waited and yet no answer was forthcoming. Just as she began to dismiss the encounter as one of her hallucinations, one of the numerous nightmares she had in her cell, the voice spoke again.

"Don't you recognise me? I'm Peeta Mellark."

Effie's breath caught in her throat.  _Peeta, the boy with the Mockingjay chain._

"Peeta?" She paused letting a Peacekeeper walk past their cells before speaking again. "Did they capture you too?"

"Yes. Katniss..." he whispered. His voice took a different tone. It sounded angry and feral. "She's the reason why we're all here."

"What?" Effie asked in confusion.  _Katniss._  Effie shut her eyes in concentration. She tried to picture Katniss, tried to imagine how she looks like, how her voice sounded. She remembered Katniss Everdeen. She was one of her tributes but she could not for the life of her picture Katniss' face any longer.

The boy in the cell next to her didn't sound at all like the gentle, soft-spoken Peeta who could charm an entire nation with his words alone.

"She... She will kill us all. There will be a war, people will fight each other. She'll kill us all," Peeta told her, almost sounding hysterical.

Effie didn't reply to him. She retreated back to the darkest corner of her cell, hiding from view.

She fell into a troubling, uneasy sleep with the sounds of Peeta's sobbing echoing in the background.

XxX

"Effie? Effie?" an urgent voice called out for her. Peeta had been dragged out a few hours earlier and was only recently returned to his cell.

"Yes?" she whispered, afraid that the Peacekeepers lurking around.

"Have you seen Johanna Mason and Enaboria?"

"No. Only you."

"They're here, too. Captured just like me."

"Where did they take you, Peeta? Just now, I saw them dragging you out of your cell."

"Uhh... Interview. With Caesar. I tried, Effie, I called for a cease fire again. Maybe they'll listen, maybe they'll stop fighting each other. I tried to warn them."

Effie shook her head. She wasn't sure what had been done to Peeta but she heard whispers. The Peacekeepers thought that since she was a prisoner, weak and injured, she wouldn't pay attention to them. But she had nothing else to do, nothing left to lose. She was starved for news.

She heard whispers of tracker jacker venom, though she wasn't sure what it was meant to be used for. She once wondered if that was what she had been injected with. She heard stories of an impending attack on District 13.

She had also heard Adrian Fox screaming to someone, as she sat slumped in the metal chair after another gruelling session of questioning. He was displeased that whatever had been given to her wasn't working as expected, that she was not giving them information.

"I want to know about the Rebellion so I have something to report to President Snow! I don't want to hear the bitch talking about her childhood or some other mindless gibberish! You're the scientist, you figure this one out!"

"We're working on it, sir. This is relatively new and... I think instead of enhancing her memories, she seems to have forgotten them and has disassociated herself from them."

"Then fix it, or I will kill you next," Adrian Fox growled at the man.

The scientist's voice was familiar. After taking several arduous moments, Effie placed his voice as the one who would visit her in the cell after her sessions with Fox. He would ask her simple questions about herself, her name, her age, her life in the Capitol. She would tell him, that man with greying hair and yellow eyes which Effie was sure was an enhancement. She would falter and her answers came out haltingly whenever questions of the 74th Hunger Games or the mentor she worked with were asked. She had to search her memories before she could answer.

"Effie, do you know what's going on right now?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you know, please," the old scientist had asked her softly as he crouched beside her in the cell.

"There is a Rebellion going on. I have been captured and taken prisoner," she answered in a monotonous voice.

"Okay. You are aware of what led you here?"

Effie frowned. "They think I'm a rebel."

"Do you know Haymitch and Katniss?" he asked.

"I do. They're... a mentor and my tribute. They're wanted by the Capitol."

The man nodded and scribbled something on his clipboard. Effie liked this man, he reminded her of her grandfather who had passed away when she was five. He was gentle and soft spoken; his behaviour was unlike any normal Capitol citizen, if not for the surgical enhancements he had done.

"Describe Haymitch to me. What was he like? How he looks like? Anything at all."

"He... uhh... He smells of alcohol most of the time," Effie blinked slowly. "He's rude and he has no manners. He is... He has messy hair; I think it is dirty blonde?"

Effie remembered everything that happened to her. She remembered being told of District 13, she remembered the arena exploding, she knows about the Rebellion but what her mind could not focus on was Haymitch and Katniss. Each time she tried to remember them, she felt like there were holes in her memories where they should be.

Before he left her cell, he slipped a pack of dried fruits into her palm and Effie feeling terribly grateful had started crying.

XxX

Adrian Fox had come into her cell one day and kicked her awake. She was told of Portia's execution, how Peeta's prep team had been captured recently and how District 13 was destroyed and the rebels' army scrambling to regroup.

"You'll be next. I think I will miss having you around, my love. Now who will entertain me, who will be my punching bag?" he asked cruelly.

"Why don't you just kill me now?" she asked through gritted teeth. "Do you still think I have any information to give you?"

"Oh, I know you have nothing useful to tell me. I know it very well. After all, that useless drunk was probably at District 13 and as I'm sure you heard District 13 was destroyed. He's probably dead and if we're lucky, the Mockingjay would have been with him at Thirteen and equally as dead. We have no more use for you but I think I'll keep you around a little longer until the orders are given," he bend down and brought his face close to hers. "I like to see you break."

Effie closed her eyes, trying to block the sound of his laughter. Effie imagined death would be better than the hell she was currently going through. She would welcome it. If what Adrian Fox said was true, if Haymitch was dead and if Katniss had been killed, both of whom Effie knew was important to the rebels, they would have lost. The world would be no different. President Snow will still rule, the Games will still be played and children will still die.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note, this chapter is slightly different. I've included both Effie's and Haymitch's POV in this. The next chapter will be back to normal, meaning, it'll be in Effie's POV again.

Chapter 20

Effie

Effie had always been skinny. Appearances had always been important in the Capitol and Effie had worked hard to ensure that she would fit in seamlessly.

Now, however, she was just skin and bones. Her Capitol clothes had long been stripped and thrown away. She was instead given a normal plain white gown to wear, a gown which was by now, torn and tattered and soaked with her blood. She longed for her clothes, for her wigs and her make-up. She wanted to hide, to run away and disappear. Her wigs and make-ups had always been her armour.

Effie's mind and her spirit were broken. She couldn't stay strong enough. The news of District 13 was the last straw. The possibility that all they had fought for was lost broke her. She had nothing to ground her to reality anymore.

It was made worse when they had taken Peeta and moved him somewhere far away from her cell and without his presence; she had no one to talk to. She felt herself slipping further and further into the recesses of her own mind. The only place she felt safe.

Effie felt herself growing weaker by the day. She stopped soaking her bread on the dirty puddle of water, stopped nibbling on it to try and stay alive. She wanted to die. She wasn't sure if she could ever recover from her injuries if she was fortunate enough to be rescued.

Rescue. Save. Who would even come to save the Capitol Escort?

Nobody would. She was a traitor to the Capitol and without Haymitch; the rebels would kill her for being a pawn to the Capitol. She had been part of the Games that killed so many of their children; they wouldn't know anything about her. Effie was as good as dead; she would be targeted by both sides.

"Effie," she heard someone softly utter her name at the back of her subconscious. The voice sounded familiar but Effie was too tired, too exhausted to try and connect the voice to her memories. Effie wasn't sure if she could even trust her memories.

She felt a hand touching her arm and she flinched instinctively. Effie tensed, waiting for a whip to slash her back, or a boot to make contact with her face but nothing came. She tried to move and turned towards the voice. Whoever that person was, he hadn't hurt her yet and Effie was struggled to find out who it was. She let out a painful moan and squinted to make out the face swimming in front of her. Tired grey eyes, lips set in a thin line, stubble adorning his cheeks, lanky hair framing the sides of his face.

She opened her mouth to say something but her voice abandoned her.

"We've got you now, sweetheart. You're safe."

XxX

Haymitch

His orders had been simple; get Peeta and the rest of the Victors who had been captured out of the Capitol.

Haymitch couldn't in good conscience, just leave for District 13 when he knew that Effie was being held captive in that very building. He had been at the meeting battling his alcohol withdrawal when the rebel insiders in the Capitol had informed Plutarch of Effie Trinket's fate. Still alive. His ears had perked up and he had sat up straight in his chair when they mentioned her name.

They had made plans to rescue the Victors and when Haymitch had brought Effie up, Coin had disagreed claiming that as a Capitol citizen, her loyalty was questionable. Plutarch Heavensbee had shot President Coin a disgruntled offended look at that offhand remark and Haymitch had jumped to his feet so violently that his chair fell back from the force of it, slamming his palms on the table.

He had to try, he had to look for her and bring her with him; back to Thirteen.

"You've got 15 minutes, Haymitch. That hovercraft will leave for Thirteen after 15 minutes," Plutarch informed him as he boarded another hovercraft with Peeta, Johanna, Annie and three other Capitol citizens who had not had enough time to escape the building when the rebels stormed the prison. "Good luck."

Haymitch took two medics with him to explore deeper into the underground prison where the Capitol held the prisoners they deemed to be political threats. If this attempt proved to be futile and they didn't make it back to the hovercraft within the stipulated time frame, he was not only endangering his life but the life of the two medics he brought with him.

Haymitch gritted his teeth, pushing his dark thoughts deep within the recesses of his mind and continued his search down the dark and dank corridors. How dare Coin even suggest that Effie's life was worth any less than the rest of the victors?

Coin seemed to have forgotten that Effie was, in a way, part of the Rebellion. She had helped in her own subtle ways before she was captured. Haymitch wasn't oblivious to the fact that Effie was smart, that she probably realised he had gone missing on a number of occasions as he sneaked off to meet Plutarch and the other mentors from the Districts. She could have reported his errant behaviour to the Peacekeepers or her Capitol superiors but she had kept her silence.

She had looked out for him and ensured everything still ran smoothly in the District 12 camp. Unlike any other escorts that Haymitch had observed from the other districts, beneath that Capitol mask was a human. She cared about her tributes, tried to help them as much as she could even when the situation was impossible with no sponsors to help them. She cared about Katniss and Peeta. She was beside herself with worry when she realised the sort of consequences the berries could bring. Most importantly, Haymitch thought to himself, above all that, it seemed that she cared about him, too. She tolerated him and aside from Chaff, his dead girl and his dead family, no one had bothered about him before.

They passed several cells and it pained Haymitch to leave them behind because there just wasn't enough time and manpower to mount a huge rescue attempt for all the prisoners. His sole purpose now was to find Effie Trinket. He gritted his teeth and pressed forward, trying hard not to let the thoughts of these prisoners that were left behind get to him. Haymitch snorted to himself in derision, And who am I to say that these people's life are worth any less than Effie's? I am no better than Coin.

As he travelled deeper into the underground labyrinth, Haymitch passed by several empty cells and the deeper he went, the stench of dried blood became unbearable. His heart rate quickened as images of Effie's bruised and battered body invaded his mind. He peered into a cell when he saw that someone was in it. The bloodied body lying prone on the floor at an odd angle, the person's neck was twisted facing away from Haymitch. He stepped closer, holding his breath. The smell of decay was overwhelming that Haymitch began to dry heave as he approached the figure. Not Effie, not Effie, don't let this be Effie.

Haymitch gingerly grasped the shoulder and turned the body towards him. He jumped back in surprise; clutching his chest as he stared at the dead eyes of Cinna. They had left him to rot.

"Over here! We've got one in this cell. Could be her, blonde hair you said?" an urgent voice of one of the medics reached him.

He spared one last glance for Cinna before he sprinted out of the cell towards where the medics were. He pushed past them and stepped into another cell. His eyes landed on a figure whose back was to him, lying prone; skinny, sickly, with too many slash marks on her back to count.

Effie, he thought, please, don't be dead. He clenched his jaw at the sight before him. Her clothes were tattered, torn and covered in blood. Her golden blonde hair was cropped haphazardly and had lost its lustre from when he saw it last at her apartment. He moved forward slowly and crouched down next to the figure.

"Effie," he whispered, his voice choking at the sight before him. He extended his hand to touch her arm and the moment it made contact, Effie flinched. She let out a painful moan and slowly turned her head towards his voice.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Effie grimaced in pain and Haymitch saw how, for the first time, badly bruised her face was. Her left cheek was swollen and her nose looked slightly deformed. Haymitch slid his arm below her head as a cushion and carefully turned her over. She hissed in pain as the slash marks on her back continued oozing blood and pus. Haymitch tried to smother the bubbling, increasing rage he felt at the thought of Effie being tortured to that state.

"We've got you now, sweetheart. You're safe," Haymitch told her as he beckoned for the two medics to come forward with the stretcher. They placed her flat on her stomach and with a single grim nod from Haymitch made their way out of the cell towards the hovercraft.

Haymitch checked his watch. 4 minutes to spare. They would make it in time.

He held her hand all through their ride in the hovercraft back to Thirteen. Haymitch managed to assure her one more time that she was in safe hands and they would get her the medical attention she needed soon enough before she finally lost consciousness.

"How long before we arrive?" Haymitch asked the pilot.

"20 minutes, sir."

Effie might not have been out of danger but he felt lighter, a burden lifted off him knowing that he had gotten Effie out of the Capitol's grip. He had spent close to ten years working with the fiery, impossible Escort. She had grown on him, crept up on him when he wasn't looking and he admits, albeit begrudgingly that she had in a way become part of his life. He needed her back. It took her absence, her capture for him to value her presence. His mind unwillingly revisited the memories of the first time he had kissed Effie Trinket, the night he had two victors to bring with him back to District 12.

XxX

Haymitch was not allowed in the intensive care unit and was told to wait outside the operating theatre for news on Effie. He started pacing up and down the corridor, trying to shake the nerves that had slowly started to settle in. Plutarch had come by earlier to discuss Peeta's condition. Hijacked, he was told.

Haymitch couldn't help but wonder if the same had been done to Effie; if she too had been hijacked with tracker jacker venom.

At that moment, as Haymitch was about ready to tear his hair out in agony, Mrs. Everdeen came out of surgery to give Haymitch clearance to visit Effie. As he made to pass her, Mrs. Everdeen's hand curled around his biceps stopping him in his track. "She may not be the same, Haymitch. When you brought her in, she was in a terrible condition. Physically, she'll heal but you of all people should know that there are scars that run deeper than that," she warned him gently.

Haymitch nodded and made his way to the hospital bed where the Effie lay buried under multiple layers of blankets. She was hooked up to various monitors. She looks like a skeleton, Haymitch thought to himself.

He sat down by her bed and held her hand in his. He stayed that way for hours; occasionally his fingers would brush the hair away from her heavily bandaged forehead, he would trace the little free skin on her arms which was not covered by yet another bandage and he would watch her chest rise and fall with each breath she took as he tried to convince himself that she was still alive. He had stood vigil by her bed and refused to leave until Plutarch came to drag him away to the Command Centre for an important council of war.


	21. Chapter 21

 

Effie blinked her eyes open and stared at the ceiling in a daze. She tried to push herself to a sitting positing when she felt a dull ache in her right foot radiating up to her shin. She collapsed against the pillows she was propped on and winced in pain. Her back felt sore with every movement.

_What is wrong with me? Why does it hurt everywhere?_

She glanced around trying to get a sense of where she was. The room was so bright, so sterile with its white walls and bed sheets. The smell of alcohol disinfectant wafted through her nose which, Effie discovered was covered in a splint.

Effie froze when an image came unbidden into her mind. She recalled the sound of dripping water, the dampness of the floor and the darkness that constantly surrounded her.

Effie shook her head to try ridding herself of the intrusive image.  _What was that?_

The sound of something beeping caught her attention and brought her back to the present situation she was in. There were several monitors at the side of her bed and she saw wires running from it towards her bed. Her eyes followed the length of the wire which she realised was attached to her index finger. She had an intravenous drip attached to her forearm, providing her body with the electrolytes and nutrients that it had lost.

_A hospital._

Effie began to panic. She had little to no recollection of being brought to a hospital or why she was in so much pain. Just then, the door opened and a woman walked in.

"You're awake," she observed.

"Where am I?"

"You're in District 13. I'm Doctor Hart. How are you feeling?"

"I... I'm confused. I'm in so much pain."

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "That's understandable. You've been through a very traumatic event and you will need time to heal. I've given you morphine to manage your pain but I will look into increasing the dosage if the pain is still unbearable for you. Your ankle is broken, so I wouldn't recommend you to put any pressure on it for the time being. In any case, with the injuries you sustained, you are in no condition to walk, kindly do not attempt to get out of bed."

Doctor Hart briefly glanced up at her to check if Effie was keeping up with what she said and when Effie nodded slowly, hesitantly, she continued.

"Don't worry too much. Lucky for you, it wasn't a terribly bad fracture. Mrs Everdeen has been a great help with her knowledge of medicine and combined with ours, I'm rather certain you'd be able to walk in a few weeks. With a walking aid, of course."

"How long have I been here?" she asked in a soft whisper. Her throat felt dry and speaking seemed to require too much of an effort but she had to know answers to the questions that were swimming in her head.

"Nearly two weeks now, you were unconscious when they brought you in…"

 _They?_ Effie's eyebrow crinkled in confusion. Doctor Hart seemed oblivious to it and continued talking in her soft low tone.

"Your back is healing as well as can be expected. As long as you don't do something that will cause the cuts to split -"

"You said Mrs Everdeen?" she interrupted the doctor, her earlier question forgotten. Effie bit her tongue when she realised the impropriety committed on her part, to interrupt someone while they were speaking.

Again, Doctor Hart patiently nodded, "Katniss Everdeen's mother."

 _Katniss Everdeen._  Effie knew that name; she was the girl on fire. Effie scrunched her face as she desperately tried to bring up an image of Katniss to her mind.  _Dark hair, extremely stubborn, fire;s her dress was on fire._

Her train of thoughts were interrupted when Doctor Hart spoke to her. "There are people who are eager to see you. I'm supposed to alert them the moment you've woken up. Excuse me."

Effie watched as the doctor left her room and shut the door quietly behind her. She still had so many questions that needed answering. She needed to know how she came to be at District 13 and most importantly, who brought her there. She closed her eyes, and leaned back against the pillows, willing her mind to remember the events that would explain her situation.

She saw the dark, square room with its glinting metal bars again and she was convinced that she could smell the putrid air of decay. She squeezed her eyes tightly. She vividly remembered the extreme feeling of hunger and immediately her mind conjured up an image of herself dipping a piece of bread into a puddle of water before nibbling on it.

Effie's breath hitched. There was a boy, Peeta Mellark, one of her many tributes. She had heard him screaming in agony, sobbing in desperation in the cell next to hers.  _Katniss, Katniss,_  he had whimpered and called out.

Another image came forth into her mind; a man with lanky hair and Effie recalled the way he smelt. He smelt of musk, of sweat and of liquor.

Effie was alerted by the sound of her door opening and from her position on the bed, she saw two men walked in. They stood by Effie's bed side as she eyed them sceptically. One of the man seemed familiar; the way he stood, the way his hair fell around his face, his entire mannerism seemed oddly familiar.

The large man beside him took a seat in the only empty chair and greeted her. "Ms. Trinket," he nodded and patted her hands warmly.

"Mr. Heavensbee," she said his name out loud as she connected his face to his name.

"How are you feeling, my dear?"

Effie stared at him. "I'm okay," she lied.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, Effie. May I call you, Effie?" he asked in a warm friendly voice. Effie nodded.

"I must thank you, Effie, for everything you've done, especially for how strong you were while you... were imprisoned. You could have told them all you knew and yet, despite the peril you were in, you still held strong. You could have destroyed us and I really have to thank you for keeping our secrets close to your heart."

Effie's eyes glazed over as she recalled the events that happened before she was brought here.  _Imprisonment._  That would explain the images she saw. Yes, she remembered being captured by Peacekeepers, she remembered the cell that they had kept her in and she remembered being terribly hungry and in pain. The rest were still a mystery to her.

"Peeta?" she asked hoarsely, suddenly remembering about the boy who was in the cell next to hers.

"He's safe... He's in another room, being treated too," Plutarch answered.

The man who was standing silently beside Plutarch moved to stand by the window overlooking the corridor. His crossed his arms as he stared at the ceiling with his jaw clenched.

"I... I don't remember. Please, what's wrong with me? I don't remember what happened while I was... while I was imprisoned," Effie paused as she took deep shuddering breath to try and stay calm down.

She saw them exchange a look.

Plutarch leaned forward in his seat and locked his gaze on Effie. "Firstly, do you know that there is a Rebellion going on?"

"Yes," she answered softly.

"Alright, you are aware that you had spent quite a number of weeks in the Capitol as a prisoner?"

"Yes. Yes, they say I was a rebel. They wanted information," the tears gathered in her eyes as she blinked to get rid of them.

"You don't remember what happened to you while you were held prisoner?"

Effie paused and searched her memories.  _A slap on her face, a whip to her back, being punched on her sternum and needles. She remembered those needles pricking the soft skin on her elbow._

"Not all of them," she took a deep breath. "I remember some of it. The rest are... I can't. It's like trying to remember a long forgotten dream. I know it's there but I can't find it. I don't really remember how I got here. The doctor said I'm in District 13," a sob escaped her lips as her tears started falling.

"I brought you here," the man beside Plutarch finally deigned to speak. He moved forward, picking up the glass by her bed side and pressed the tip of the straw against her parched lips, urging her to take a sip.

Effie took a few sips and shook her head at him. He took the straw away, placing the glass back on the table.

Shet studied him, and the man fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable to be under her scrutiny.

"You seem oddly familiar. I think I know you from somewhere..." she trailed off and once again her eyes lost focus as she tried to recall her past.  _Mentor. He was the mentor for District 12; my colleague. What was his name? Haymitch. Haymitch... something._

Just to make certain, she looked at him and asked, "I apologise if this sounds rude, but I can't remember your name."

The man before her briefly closed his eyes and she watched as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Haymitch. Haymitch Abernathy."

Haymitch turned on his heels, his back to hers and went straight to Plutarch jerking his head towards the door. Plutarch rose from the chair and smiled apologetically at Effie.

"Rest now, Effie. There'll be time to talk later on," he told her before following Haymitch out of her room.

XxX

Effie saw their shadows from the light seeping through her door.

"I think she's affected, too. Tracker jacker venom."

In his haste to leave the room, Haymitch had forgotten to shut her door and their hushed voices drifted into her room. She strained her ears to catch their words.

_Venom from a tracker jacker?_

"Effie's not like Peeta. She's not violent; she hasn't tried to attack anyone," Plutarch tried to reasoned it out.

"No, she hasn't," Haymitch concurred. "But that does not explain why she can't remember."

"I don't know. She has been through a lot, Haymitch, you ought to remember that. It could be the trauma."

"Of course, I remember," Haymitch hissed. Effie frowned at how angry he sounded. "You don't have to remind me how my failure to ensure her safety landed her in that damned cell."

 _This man,_ _Haymitch was the reason I was captured?_ Effie's head was spinning as she tried to figure out their conversation. _Why would a mentor be responsible for my safety?_

She stared at the door as another memory floated to her conscious mind. It was of Haymitch sitting on the sofa of her apartment telling her of District 13 and her disbelief of its existence.

Effie was even more confused by then. Instead of answering her questions, she had more questions that needed answering. Did she have a close working relationship with the mentor for District 12 for him to even be at her apartment? She doesn't usually invite a man home.

"She doesn't remember me, Plutarch. She doesn't even remember the time she spent in prison," Effie heard Haymitch snarl.

"She does remember, Haymitch. Granted, not all of it, but isn't it better not remembering?" Plutarch replied trying to placate Haymitch. "

"Listen, they found traces of the venom in her blood, right?" Haymitch asked, his voice sounded urgent, desperate. Plutarch must have nodded because Haymitch continued speaking.

"They got her first. They must have had captured her which was why -" he cleared his throat. "Why she never made it to the rooftop. They captured Peeta later. What if... what if they experimented with the venom on her first to be used on Peeta later?"

"That is all well and good, Haymitch, but those guesses are just mere speculation," Plutarch answered.

"She has the traces of the venom in her, Plutarch! It's not as concentrated as Peeta's but she has it still. Maybe that's why she hasn't tried to attack anyone. Maybe she forgets people instead of being fed lies about how dangerous someone was."

"Let me get this straight, you're saying that the effect of the venom on Effie is different than on Peeta because the Capitol was just experimenting with the venom in smaller dosage? A prototype, perhaps? That unlike Peeta she wasn't hijacked? She was what then, Haymitch? What was done to her?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't be standing here talking to you, if I do. All I know is that that woman lying on that bed in that room doesn't remember who I am," Haymitch growled and Effie heard his footsteps retreating.

Effie stared at the ceiling with tears flowing down her cheeks, soaking the pillow. She felt utterly lost and confused. She felt helpless.

_What's wrong with me?_


	22. Chapter 22

Effie was aware of the slight movements on her bed side and she slowly blinked her eyes open. The room was dark except for the soft dim glow of light off the side of her bed. Doctor Hart came into view as she stooped low and placed her stethoscope on Effie's chest, listening to her heartbeat.

"I'm just doing my routine check on the patients. You can go back to sleep soon, sorry to have disturbed you," the doctor murmured softly to Effie, giving her a small smile.

Effie ignored her. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest, her throat had gone dry and she whimpered.

"Calm down, Ms. Trinket," Doctor Hart commanded.

"Please," she whispered desperately. Doctor Hart gave her a confused look. "Please, don't..."

Effie started screaming and flailing in the bed, tugging the wires and tubes attached to her arms. She felt a strong pair of arms pushing her shoulder, pushing her back down against the bed.

"What happened?" a low baritone belonging to a man asked.

"She just started screaming. Hold her arms down; she'll rip the intravenous plug out if you don't. Restrain her arms if you have to."

Lights flooded the room as Doctor Hart switched them on in order to fix Effie's loose intravenous drip. At the sudden introduction of light, Effie stiffened before she began to grow limp and stopped fighting; her eyes wide open as it darted around the room looking at her surroundings, breathing heavily through her nose.

Haymitch's face hovered above hers, staring at her with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"You okay now? You need to calm down, you're safe," he whispered softly, his hand brushing her hair that was drenched in sweat away from her eyes. Her heart rate slowly went back down to an acceptable value.

Effie's ears vaguely picked up Doctor Hart informing Haymitch that she would be in her room down the hall, in the event that another emergency popped up and Effie required urgent medical attention.

Effie lifted her hand and her fingertips softly mapped out the planes of Haymitch's face, almost in a trance. She ran her fingers down the bridge of his nose, and as she traced his lips, Haymitch grabbed her hand and brought it back down to her side.

"You know who I am, don't you?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," she nodded. "Haymitch."

Effie remembered him telling her his name. The memories of them working together, getting sponsors, sitting at the viewing room in the Games Headquarters watching the Games, and a random memory of a time when she sat by his bed as she handed over a golden bracelet played in her mind's eye.

"You should go back to sleep," he told her tiredly. He looked haggard in Effie's opinion. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Effie noticed how his hands trembled as he tugged the covers back up under her chin.

"I...," she began, unsure if she should continue. Haymitch settled down on the chair that Plutarch Heavensbee had sat on previously and looked at her curiously. "I remember that you always smelt of alcohol - you don't, now."

Haymitch scoffed. "Different district, different rules. They don't have any here for me to drink."

Effie smiled weakly, not knowing what else to say.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Haymitch didn't answer instead he took a long hard look at her. After a while, he spoke, "Yeah, I'll be here."

He moved to decrease the glow of the light and Effie's reaction was instantaneous.

"No, don't!"

Haymitch faltered with his hands outstretched, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Effie could tell that he was alarmed at her sudden outburst.

"It was always... It was always dark back there. I don't – Please, leave the lights on,"

Understanding settled in on Haymitch's face, "Okay."

XxX

When she woke up next, and glanced to her right, she saw that Haymitch had somehow managed to fold his limbs into the chair as he slept on it uncomfortably. Effie took that opportunity to study him as he slept.

He looked a little less tense, almost peaceful in his sleep. Every once in a while he would give a soft snore and the wisp of hair that had fallen to his face would blow gently every time he exhaled. Haymitch had rolled up the sleeves of his wrinkled shirt up to his elbow and Effie could see the veins running up and down his arms.

She reached out slowly and touched one of his arms dangling over the side of the armchair.

"Haymitch. Haymitch," she called out softly, shaking his arm.

He jerked awake, slashing the air with his knife. Effie flinched and instinctively covered her face. Slowly, she lowered her hand and froze as a memory of his cold steel knife pressing against her throat swam in front of her eyes.

_It's me, please, it's me. She had pleaded with him at the Penthouse. He had pulled the knife away and reprimanded her for sneaking up on him._

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly when he realised that they were in no immediate danger.

"No," she shook her head. Haymitch nodded in relief.

The silence seemed to stretch before them. Haymitch twirled the knife with his fingers, silently observing her. He jerked his head towards the food laid out on the table at the foot of her bed.

"Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head. Haymitch stood up, pulling the table close to her and, took the lid off the blue bowl sitting on the tray. "Porridge," he told her, looking up, handing her a spoon.

Effie took the spoon in her bandaged hand and dipped it in the porridge. Just as she brought the spoon to her mouth, she lost her grip on it and the spoon clattered on the table. Effie flushed in embarrassment. She couldn't even feed herself now. She tried again, resolutely ignoring Haymitch who was watching her, but her arm which Adrian Fox had cut with his blade was throbbing and hurting. She gave up and pushed the bowl away, brushing a tear that had escaped from her eyes.

"Here," Haymitch said as he gently pressed the spoon against her lips. Effie looked at him in surprise, before opening her mouth to eat the porridge. "I think the doctor said to eat slowly. Get your body used to food again," he murmured softly, avoiding her gaze.

As Haymitch fed her, Effie decided to ask him about the conversation she had overhead yesterday.

"I overheard you talking to Plutarch, about the tracker jacker venom. Was that what happened to me?"

Haymitch looked at her briefly as though debating with himself if he should.

"We think so," he said finally. "You have traces of the venom, very mild unlike Peeta. We think you went under it first before he did."

"What happened to Peeta?" she asked as Haymitch brought a straw to her lips for her to drink from.

"Hijacked," seeing the confused look on her face, he explained further. "We think his memories have been distorted and altered; he now thinks Katniss is out to kill him."

"And me? Were my memories altered?"

"No," Haymitch shook his head as he placed the half eaten bowl of porridge back on the tray.

Effie frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. "How can you be certain? Just yesterday you and Plutarch weren't sure what happened to me!"

"It was two days ago, actually. You kept slipping it and out of consciousness and the morphine kept you under too."

Effie looked taken aback. "Oh. I didn't know... I feel more alert now," she noted.

"Doctor Hart has decreased your morphine dosage."

"How could you be certain, Haymitch, that my memories were not altered?" she asked again.

Haymitch sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Because we had it clarified with someone. Besides, your behaviour and Peeta when you came around are drastically different."

Effie opened her mouth to speak but Haymitch was quick to cut her off.

"I'll bring him to meet you when the time is right. He will explain it all to you."

Effie wasn't satisfied with that. Her memories were part of her, she had every right to know what they were discussing about.

"I promise," Haymitch told her, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothingly against her cheek.

Effie watched his face as he caressed her face. She wondered about her relationship with Haymitch often. She wasn't certain if it was platonic or if there was something more going on between them. There were moments like these that gave Effie the impression that Haymitch cared for her and there were times where he seemed at odds with her; avoiding her gaze as he fed her, carefully avoiding any contact with her as though he was afraid of her reaction.

To say she was confused was an understatement. Haymitch had been her only constant visitor apart from Doctor Hart and Mrs. Everdeen. Plutarch Heavensbeen had only visited her once, that day when she had woken up. She only had Haymitch for company.

"I don't remember how Katniss looks like," she said suddenly as she tried to recall all those years he had spent mentoring with her as his colleagues and her train of thought led her to Katniss and Peeta.

Haymitch frowned and the knife that he was twirling stilled in his hand. "But you remember who she is?"

"Yes, I do. It's fuzzy just like my memories of you. They're not as clear and as sharp. You know, if I were to ask you about me, I'm sure you would be able to remember everything very easily with such clarity. But... It's different with me when it comes to you and Katniss," she explained.

"I got... I have to really think hard before a memory comes to mind. I know Katniss won the Games with Peeta. She won because of the berries, the night lock. I remember Cinna setting her on fire during the opening ceremony on the 74th Games but I can't remember her face or the colour of eyes. Dark as her hair, I would imagine."

Haymitch dipped his head in understanding. "He did say," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"We were told that you will most likely not be able to remember details. You'll remember the big picture but not the minute small details."

XxX

Effie was healing as well as could be expected physically, that is to say with no major complications arising. She was still confined to bed as her ankle still couldn't bear any weight. The dressing on her arm, forehead, back and hand had to be changed daily. She was still physically weak from all the injuries and the starvation while in prison.

Effie was used to a busy lifestyle, constantly moving about accomplishing the tasks she had set out on her schedule and she found it increasingly frustrating to be bedridden with nothing to do.

When he wasn't caught up with endless meetings and running between hospital rooms attending to Peeta and Effie or trying to keep his Mockingjay sane, he would keep her company. He'll try to visit her each day, taking his place at the arm chair by the side of her bed. He would ask her about the memories that she was able to recall and she would tell him about it. Haymitch would confirm the validity of the memories or if he knew enough about what happened, he would add more details for her to make the memory clearer. Sometimes, he doesn't tell them willingly and Effie had to cajole it out of him.

When Haymitch was away, Effie grew restless and bored. Being alone with only her thoughts and the memories of her time in prison makes her jumpy and paranoid. Mrs. Everdeen had taken pity on her and had taught her how to knit hoping to distract her mind from revisiting those dark times. It had been difficult with her hand still wrapped in thick bandages, but Effie was determined. Even then, with District 13's policy of not wasting materials, it was difficult for Mrs. Everdeen to get her hands on balls of yarn for her.

Mrs. Everdeen would sometimes check on her and Effie had used those times to ask all she could about Katniss. Mrs. Everdeen had told Effie about her daughter, how she used to hunt in the woods for food and how worried she was for Katniss who had been turned into a symbol of Rebellion.

Effie was knitting on her last ball of yarn when the door opened and Haymitch staggered in, clearly exhausted. Effie blushed when she saw him, the image of what she just recalled that morning when she woke up still fresh in her mind.

"You look like a tomato," he said, falling into the chair.

"I just remembered something, that's all."

"Yeah? Tell me about it then,"

Effie stammered, "We, umm... We were in an elevator and I think I was angry with you,"

"You're always angry with me, one way or the other. Now, you're probably angry over the fact that I interrupted your story."

Effie's lips quirked into a smile. "Mildly irritated," she corrected him. "Well, we were in an elevator and in that memory, you kissed me," she told him looking away.

"Hmmm."

Effie waited for him to elaborate but that was all he had to say on the subject. "Were we... are we together?"

Haymitch fidgeted in his seat. "No, we're not," he shook his head. He sighed, closed his eyes as he speak. "The first time we kissed, it was the day the kids won the Games. I uhh... I told you we would talk about it, but things happened, the Third Quell, the Rebellion... There just wasn't a good time for it," Haymitch waved his hands.

Effie could tell he was uncomfortable and she was sure that if it wasn't for the fact that she had problems remembering, Haymitch would not have even talked about this with her.

"We kissed a few times after that. That's all. The elevator was one of them," he said, averting his gaze.

Effie wanted to know more. Her curiosity was peaked but Plutarch Heavensbee chose that moment to poke his head into her room.

"Mitch? We're ready whenever Effie is," he spoke to Haymitch while offering Effie a small smile.

Haymitch turned towards him and nodded before waving his hands, asking him to leave. "I'll come find you in a while."

He turned back towards Effie and leaned forward with one of his hands resting on her bed. It dipped slightly under his added body weight.

"Remember that day when I told you I'll let you meet someone who could explain your situation?" he murmured, his hand twisting the tag around her wrist declaring her to be mentally unstable.

"Yes."

"You could meet him today, sweetheart, if you want. If you're ready," he told her.

Effie took a moment to think. She wanted to know what had happened to her to make her forget, but at the same time, she was afraid to know any more bad news that could be forthcoming.

Effie felt Haymitch's gaze on her as he patiently waited for her answer. "Okay, I'll meet him but, please stay with me."

* * *


	23. Chapter 23

"I'll be right here, don't you worry," Haymitch promised her. He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'll get them now, alright?"

Effie nodded - the knot in her stomach tightening. She watched him as he closed the door to her room gently. Effie felt strange. There were things about Haymitch that she could not remember vividly, and each time she tried, the memories fleeted away. It frustrated her. She likened her memories to the butterflies she often saw at her grandfather's garden. Each time she came near one of those winged colourful creatures and reached her hand out to stroke it, it flew away.

Her memories of Haymitch and Katniss were just like that, each time she tried to recall a particular memory, all she had was snippets of it, glimpses of what had happened before the memory failed her - just like the memory of the kiss with Haymitch at the elevator of the Penthouse. She had forced herself to remember the events that lead them to the elevator but it was useless.

Despite the gaping hole in her memories, Haymitch felt familiar, he felt safe and ever since Effie had woken up from her coma, she had unknowingly and unwittingly anchored herself to him.

She frowned at the memory she had yesterday night of Haymitch pleading with her to trust him during the Victory Banquet at President Snow's mansion. When asked, Haymitch had told her what happened, helping her to clarify that memory.

The door swung open and Haymitch sauntered in, followed by an elderly man in grey overalls with Plutarch bringing up the rear. Effie's eyes narrowed. She knew this man. He shuffled in slowly, never looking up to take in his surroundings. His hands were bound in metal handcuffs in front of him. His entire demeanour looked dejected and tired. He looked like someone who had long given up control of his own life.

Plutarch directed him towards the chair that a moment ago was occupied by Haymitch. As he lowered himself into the chair, he looked up. His yellow enhanced eyes came up to meet Effie's vacant blue ones. Effie jerked in recognition and she felt Haymitch's hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Effie. He can't harm you," Plutarch said.

"Euphemia Trinket," the old man's voice came out in a dry, throaty whisper. "Little Effie," his lips quivered in a slow smile.

Effie's eyes darted towards Haymitch, who had raised a single eyebrow in surprise.  _How does he know my name? I've never told anyone my real name._

"Doctor," Effie replied hesitantly. She never knew his name, but she remembered his rare act of kindness while she was being held against her will. She remembered him pressing a pack of dried fruits in her hand one night before he left her cell.

"I'm... I'm glad you made it out alive," he told Effie. His smile never quite reached his eyes.

"I'm glad I got out at all," she replied. "I never knew who you were... Just that, you were always... You're not like them - you treated me like a human being. What's your name, Doctor?"

"Fabius. Fabius Crane."

Effie stared at him uncomprehendingly. She felt Haymitch shift closer to her side of the bed, slipping his hand in hers and for that she was grateful; thankful for his silent support. The beeping on one of the monitors increased, reflecting Effie's heart rate.

"You're... Seneca's grandfather?" she asked disbelievingly after an awkward stretch of silence.

Fabius Crane gave a sad smile at the mention of Seneca's name. "Yes, I am. You used to come over and play with my little boy when you were both young, do you remember?" he asked softly.

He looked up at her as he said it, but Effie knew his mind was elsewhere, revisiting a time when a small little girl with a pink ribbon in her hair and a boy with sleek jet-black hair had run around the Cranes' mansion, their innocent laughter ringing around the house; a little girl who had arranged her dolls around the coffee table and insisted Seneca have tea with them.

"Yes... Yes, I do. But, I haven't seen you since I was 10. Seneca told me you were gone, taken away."

At that point, ten year old Effie had thought that Doctor Fabius Crane had passed away, taken by the angels, just like her grandfather.

"Seneca wasn't wrong. I was taken and made to work in the labs. I was... I was gifted and cleverness is never a good thing with the Capitol," his eyes strayed to Haymitch when he said it. "The Capitol feared the Dark Days - they feared if there ever was another Rebellion and people like me fell into the wrong hands, our ideas and experiments could destroy the Capitol. So they got me first before anyone else could."

"I was put to work, helping the government with numerous scientific projects. The tracker jacker venom was amongst them."

Effie looked away, biting her lips; her bandaged hand coming up to brush her hair away from her eyes.

"Haymitch told me that I had traces of it in me," she whispered.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Doctor Crane nodding his head slowly. He shifted in his seat and his handcuffs clanged as the metals linking the right and left cuff swung. Doctor Crane focused his gaze on a spot on the wall above Effie's head and began explaining.

"We began modifying the venom sometime after the 74th Hunger Games, when President Snow began to suspect rebellious activities among the Districts. The labs were experimenting with some other species too; it was not only the tracker jacker. I was not privy to their experiments."

He paused to collect his thoughts and Effie watched him, enthralled. Here was a man who held the answers to what had been done to her, a man she had known quite well in what seemed to be a different lifetime.

At some point of time when Doctor Crane had started explaining, Plutarch had left the room, giving Effie the privacy she needed. True to his words, Haymitch remained by her side, perched at the edge of her bed, his hand in hers.

"It was a new experiment and we had only tested it a few times before. You were the sixth person we tested it on and apart from minor memory loss, the results looked promising," he said in a detached, clinical tone.

Effie heard Haymitch growled and clenched his fist. "Promising?" Haymitch spat the words out.

"Yes. The first two we tested on went insane. One had no recollection of who he was, the other could only recall the negative memories he had faced in his life. The nightmares drove him insane but we achieved our goal with the second one. We wanted to see if we could draw out memories, make them prominent at the forefront of the victim's mind. It was so successful that, the negative memories were the only ones the victim could recall consciously for an extended period of time."

"Based on that, we did further modifications to the venom we tested on you," his eyes flickered briefly to Effie's. He had both Effie's and Haymitch's undivided attention.

Plutarch had informed Haymitch of the history and involvement of Fabius Crane but nothing could prepare it from hearing it first hand from the man himself. None of them had ever known the extent in which the Capitol had a hand in all these experiments much less with scientists they had kidnapped and held against their own will.

"President Snow and Adrian Fox wanted something specific, something they could use for interrogations. They wanted memories of certain people or events to be brought to the forefront of the victim's mind. We couldn't come up with what he wanted, so we made ..." he sighed.

"To put it simply, when injected with the venom, it was easier for you to recall the memories of the person Adrian Fox was interested in. It lifted up the inhabitation, like how one would freely speak their mind under the influence of alcohol."

"That was why he kept bringing up their names - Haymitch and Katniss," Effie whispered, her mouth opened in horror.

"Yes, it will act as a trigger for the multitude of memories associated with them to surface. What we didn't expect was for you to repress them, you fought it and we had not taken that into account."

"So why can't she remember?" Haymitch asked.

"It should not have affected her to that extent," Doctor Crane gave a slight apologetic shrug. "It could be because she was injected with the venom too frequently. The first victim did lose his memories, if you recall. The nature of the venom we modified was to target the specific memories and it is those memories now which she finds difficult to recall."

Effie looked at him and nodded her head, indicating for him to continue.

"I imagined the fact that you tried so hard to keep their secrets - to repress the memories under conditions of extreme stress and under the influence of the venom, made it harder for you to recall the memories when you want to."

Effie was silent, trying hard to process what she had been told.

"You didn't lose your memories entirely, I think they're there, buried in your subconscious. Haymitch told me you had started to remember bits and pieces ever since you woke up and that in itself makes for a good prognosis," he took a deep shuddering breath and fell silent.

"What about Peeta? What did they do to him?" Effie asked after a while.

"He was injected with a different kind of tracker jacker venom. The venom used on him sought to distort his memories of a specific individual, induce fear in them. In time, he'll learn to fear the individual. It was much more brutal and –"

"I'm tired," Effie said suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. She didn't want to know anymore, it was too much for her. The wounds on her back had begun to sting once again, her head was pounding again and she felt extremely lethargic.

Seeing Fabius Crane had taken its toll on her. Her memories of the loving grandfather that used to pick Seneca up and spin him around had been replaced by a man who created torture tools to be used on her and other victims.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Euphemia," he said. He reached out to touch her, but Haymitch had taken him by the elbow and guided him out.

Effie refused to look at him, couldn't look at him. Effie realised that he, too had been taken captive by the people he had pledged his loyalty to, taken away from his family and made to work in an underground lab for years, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive him. Not yet, not this soon.

 


	24. Chapter 24

"Eff?"

Effie ignored him as she curled up on her side, her back towards him. He had left with Dr Crane earlier and Effie had curled into a ball on her bed, silent tears streaming down her face. It was the first time since she regained consciousness that she finally allowed herself to accept what had happened to her; the torture, the physical abuse, the partial loss of her memories, and the weeks spent huddled in darkness.

She heard the door close and she sighed, thinking Haymitch had left. She stiffened when she heard the sound of the chair scraping and the soft squish of the cushion as Haymitch sat on it.

"You gonna ignore me?"

Effie's breath hitched as she tried to hold back her tears. She didn't want him to know that she had been crying.

"I'm not the best company right now, Haymitch."

He scoffed. "You were never the best company."

She closed her eyes and smiled ruefully at his words despite the sadness that was overwhelming her. Haymitch had told her during his numerous bedside vigils of the constant arguments they got into and the things she did that irritated him.

"I had loved him, you know. He was family – he treated me like how he treated Seneca. I lost my grandfather when I was very young … Fabius, he was…" she couldn't continue; the tears were freely flowing down her cheeks, soaking her pillow as she sobbed pitifully. She had abandoned all efforts to try and hide her tears from Haymitch.

Effie was grateful that he had allowed her to talk uninterrupted. Not once since she had woken up had Haymitch spouted the tired old cliché of how everything would turn out fine and that she would be alright. He wasn't condescending and Effie appreciated it more than she could put into words.

"I felt betrayed, he – I shouldn't feel this way. He had no choice, I know. He was forced to do it –"

"Eff, I think you have every right to feel betrayed. He was selfish. I read his files, Eff. He hasn't got anyone left. Seneca Crane was the last family member he had. The Capitol held no sway over him when they murdered Seneca. He did it to stay alive."

"Is it wrong to look out for yourself?" she asked as she turned to face him. Her eyes were red from crying.

Haymitch clenched his jaw and looked away. "Not when you live in the districts and your family is starving. You don't look out for yourself – you'd do anything to bring food on the table for them. Take tesserae, so your brother never had to."

Effie felt a wave of shame wash over her. She hadn't thought about that, it never crossed her mind. The Capitol was an individualistic culture where everyone was concerned with their own personal achievements.  _The survival of the fittest._ Effie had been taught since young to always strive for the best – dress nicely, impress others, be top of her class. She often imagined the look of disappointment and horror on her parents' face if they knew she was an Escort for the lowest of all the Districts.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he nodded at her. "Go to sleep, Eff."

Ignoring him, she asked, "What would happen to him?"

Haymitch shrugged. "He's in custody now. I don't know what Coin will do to him and the other two we captured. They're the least of her worries for now. They're not violent or dangerous."

Effie nodded. She watched him as she laid on her side on the hospital bed, her hands under her head. Haymitch leaned back against the seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. He folded his hand on his stomach and closed his eyes.

"Will it be over soon?"

"What?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at her.

"The war," she clarified for him.

"Not long now."

"Will you be fighting?"

"Why so many questions, Trinket?"

She flushed in embarrassment. "I can't sleep, Haymitch. I get nightmares. I'm scared to go to sleep."

Haymitch gave her a sidelong glance and shook his head.

"Not the best person to give advice about nightmares, sweetheart - tried blocking mine with alcohol."

"I know," she answered. "Will you be fighting? Will the Rebels attack the Capitol?"

Effie was curious of their plans. She had long been kept in the dark about the Rebellion. While the Quell was still going on, she only knew those information that Haymitch deemed was necessary for her knowledge. After weeks of being in District 13, Haymitch hadn't mentioned the Rebellion - not once while she was still recuperating.

"Don't know. Possibly. There's no concrete plan that I know of."

Effie gnawed her lips worriedly. She didn't want Haymitch to go out and fight, she didn't want to lose him to the war. She knew she was selfish but she couldn't help how she felt. As her memories of him slowly resurfaced, she had a nagging feeling that she felt more for Haymitch than what was appropriate for a colleague or a friend.

"What will happen to me?"

"I don't know, Eff," Haymitch told her truthfully. Despite his dependency on alcohol, his dishevelled appearances and belligerent attitude, Haymitch was not of the propensity to lie. He might withhold the truth from her to protect her but he didn't lie to her and for that Effie was thankful.

He leaned forward in his seat and tucked a loose strand of her cropped hair back behind her ear. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"You can't promise that," she said, shaking her head.

"No, I can't."

Haymitch dipped his head, acknowledging the truth in Effie's statement. His hand curled into a fist and he looked up to stare straight in her eyes, "But I'll try my best."

Effie recognised the look reflecting in his tired grey eyes.  _Guilt._  Between them, they had managed to piece out what happened to Effie minutes before the hovercraft departed for Thirteen and Effie was captured. Haymitch, Effie knew, felt that there was something that he could have done to prevent it.

"You'll keep me safe?"

He nodded - the determination that this time, Effie wouldn't be harmed not while under his watch burned brightly in his eyes.

XxX

It was two weeks later and Effie was in her room with two nurses by her side, practicing to walk on a pair of crutches when President Coin strode in. She had two men flanking her on each side as she stood at the foot of Effie's hospital bed.

"Oh, President Coin, nice to meet you," she greeted, ever so politely, as she hobbled back to her bed, placing the crutches to one side. She extended her right hand for a handshake and retracted it back foolishly when President Coin looked at it in disdain.

"Ms. Trinket," Coin acknowledged her simply. There was something in her voice and the way she looked at Effie that made her skin crawl. Effie ignored the feeling and tried to focus her attention at Coin, who had taken a seat on the chair Effie had mentally labelled as belonging to Haymitch.

"I'm here on official business. I've been told that you have sufficiently healed from your wounds," she said as her eyes roamed over Effie's body. "According to what I read from Doctor Hart's report, your cast was taken off sometime last week, so there wouldn't be a problem with you returning to work."

Effie frowned. While it's true that her cast had been taken off and she had since been mobile with her pair of crutches - hobbling about in her room and she had also managed to make her own way to the washroom while someone waited for her outside – she had been warned against full weight bearing. She was advised to take things slow so Effie wasn't sure what Coin meant when she said there would not be a problem.

"Two weeks from now, I want you at the Capitol. If all goes well and according to plan, the Rebels would have secured President Snow's mansion and an execution would most likely be carried out," Coin leaned back on the chair, crossed her legs and waited for Effie to speak.

"Where is Haymitch?" Effie asked looking around at all the faces she hardly recognised. "I need to speak to him, first. Maybe if you could-"

"Mr. Abernathy is otherwise occupied. You seem to have the situation confused; I am not giving you a choice, Ms. Trinket. I am giving you an order. You have been living here in District 13 under our medical care, eating our food despite your Capitol background and it's time you repay us for our hospitality."

Effie sat rigid on her bed, stunned and confused. Somehow, she managed to convey her understanding to Coin with a slow nod of her head. She had lost the nerve to speak at the mere thought of being ordered to return back to the Capitol.

"What is it – Why do you need me to go back to the Capitol?" she asked hesitantly.

"You'll be briefed at the appropriate time, Ms. Trinket. For the time being, I would suggest you regain full use of your legs," she said as she glanced at the splint around Effie's leg which had been used to replace her cast.

Satisfied that Effie had no further questions for her, President Coin rose from the chair and made to leave. At the door, she turned to look at Effie and said, "Oh, and one more thing, I am in charge here. Not Mr. Abernathy."

Once Effie heard the sound of her footsteps fade away, she pulled the covers up to her chin and curled into a fetal position on the bed. Haymitch often complained about Coin to Effie. He had told her how Coin was just like President Snow in their need to always be in control. He warned her about Coin's apparent prejudice against Capitol citizens and how she only tolerated Plutarch for his expertise and knowledge.

"Why are the Rebels working with her if she's just like  _him?_ " she had asked Haymitch.

"Because she had what we needed. A place to hide and organise an attack – weapons, food, shelter and from what I know, District 13 had been planning a rebellion for years."

She wished Haymitch was here, he would know the right thing to say. He would say something sarcastic, some colourful insult that would make the people in the Capitol turned scarlet at how rude it was but it would make her laugh and smile.

Effie didn't want to go back to the Capitol. Not that early. She was afraid of what Coin would make her do and if it's possible to carry out Coin's demand with her injuries which are still healing.

She had wanted to help the cause - she distinctively remembered how her resolve to end the Games and help the Rebels had made her agree with Haymitch when he offered to bring her with him to District 13 before she was captured - but she was wary of Coin and her intentions. Staring blankly at the wall with tears falling down her cheeks, Effie replayed the conversation with Coin over and over in her head trying to pick out any sort of clue that could have hinted her of even the slightest bit of plan that Coin had for her.

That was how Haymitch found her later that day, hidden beneath the layers of blankets. She craned her neck when she heard heavy footfall approaching her bed, hoping it was him.

"Hey," he greeted her and sank into the chair. He looked even more exhausted than before, prominent dark rings around his eyes testament that he hadn't slept in the past few days.

"Want to take a walk down the corridor?" he offered as he moved to take her crutches.

Effie shook her head and sat up, propping the pillows behind her. Effie didn't look at him, and stared at the wall infront of her.

"Okay," he said slowly, as he gingerly leaned her crutches back against the side of her bed. "What's the matter? You look... Well, I don't know – you look sort of..."

Haymitch scratched the back of his neck trying to find the right words to say.

"Coin. She came by just now."

Haymitch stiffened and swore loudly.

"Dammit. What'd she tell you?"

"Wanted me to go back – told me I needed to do something at the Capitol in two weeks. She said I owed Thirteen for everything they've done for me."

Effie glanced at Haymitch who had slumped back against his seat; his hand that was resting on the arm of the chair covered his eyes.

"You don't look surprised," she remarked.

"That's 'cause I'm not."

Effie's breath hitched and she stared at him. "You knew? All this time you knew  _she_ was going to send me back to the Capitol and you never told me?" she asked accusingly.

"I just came back from a meeting with Coin, Effie. I've just been briefed of the plan involving you," he tried to placate her. "I came here as soon as I was dismissed. Apparently she approached you first before the meeting started."

"You were briefed? You know then what she has in mind for me?"

Haymitch shook his head. "No, I don't. She told me as much as she told you – that she needed you at the Capitol. I tried to make her see reason, Eff. Told her you're not ready, you're still healing. She would hear none of it. Plutarch said its best not to argue with her when we don't know much of what she has planned for you. It could be detrimental if she decided to hold you accountable for war cr..."

Haymitch trailed off and his face scrunched up. He looked like he had swallowed something sour. He had said too much and had only just realised it.

"What do you mean detrimental? What's going on?"

"It's not important now, Eff. Let's just –"

"No, no. Stop trying to protect me, stop hiding things from me. Tell me, what's going on," she demanded with a note of hysteria in her voice.

"Effie, don't... Now's not a good time, I'll tell –" Haymitch stood up in surprised and hastily moved back, the chair falling behind him.

Effie had grabbed the silver dagger Haymitch had placed on her bed side table when he came in and was now pointing it threateningly it at him. Her eyes looked wild as she stared angrily at him.

"I lied for you - I kept your secrets. I endured unimaginable torture and pain for you. You can't even tell me what's going on? I won't go through this again, do you hear me?" she was screaming, waving the dagger at him.

"You kept things from me and they tortured me, Haymitch! They cut me, they beat me and I don't even have any worthy information to tell them other than to keep mum about District 12. I'm not going through this again. You won't keep me in the dark anymore - I'm not going back to the Capitol. I refuse to go back, I can't. I can't go back to that hell!"

"You're not going back to prison, Eff. Calm down, come on, sweetheart. I told you, I'll keep you safe. You trust me, don't you? Effie, come on..."

Haymitch moved forward, inching closer with his hand stretched out to take the knife and Effie reacted. She slashed the knife as she tried to defend herself. She looked feral.

"Don't come near me, Fox. Go away, leave me alone," she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

Haymitch grunted and staggered back clutching his arm as warm red liquid began to seep through his fingers. He turned tail and called out desperately for the nurse on duty.

Effie felt a sharp prick on her inner elbow before she collapsed on the bed. Her vision began to blur even as she tried to focus on the images of people swimming before her eyes. Her grip on the dagger slackened and someone pried open her fingers, taking the knife away.

She could make out Haymitch's voice over the muffled conversation surrounding her. "She said Fox. Who's Fox?"

She closed her eyes as the sedative began to take effect.


	25. Chapter 25

 

"Hello, Effie."

Effie turned her head sideways and saw Plutarch sitting on Haymitch's chair, closing the thick file he held in his hands as he greeted her with a warm smile. Her eyes swept her surroundings, searching for a particular person.

"Where's Haymitch?" she asked, swallowing painfully. Her throat was dry and it made talking difficult.

"With Katniss at the moment."

"I think... I think I might have hurt him," Effie whispered.

"Don't worry about it. He's fine, just a small cut is all."

"How long have I been unconcious?"

"A day."

Effie regarded Plutarch as he sat quietly in Haymitch's chair wondering what he was doing in her hospital room. From what she gathered from Haymitch, Plutarch was one of the figureheads of the Rebellion and he was constantly busy. To find him sitting calmly in her hospital room was rather puzzling.

Plutarch leaned forward in his seat resting his elbows on his knees. "Effie, I know what Coin wants you to do. I know it's difficult for you to return to the Capitol but I promised that we'll make it as painless as possible."

"Can I trust you?" Effie asked after a while. Her brows creasing as she waited expectantly for his answer.

"That is up to you..." he sighed. "But Haymitch – he trusts me and I trust him."

Effie nodded. She was under orders to return to the Capitol, she had a job to do and since she had no choice, Effie resolved to try and make the best out of the situation. "What do I have to do?"

"What you have been doing all along. You simply have to escort Katniss during Snow's execution. Make sure Katniss knows where to go and ensure that she be where she needs to be. Easy enough, right?"

Effie stared at him in disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times but she couldn't form the right words.

"No. No, you can't. I can't do that anymore. That life -"

"You have to, Effie."

"Why?" her words were barely audible.

"Because Coin wanted a show and because she's prejudiced against ... people like us. You have to do this. If you refuse and she becomes the new president, she will use your refusal to co-operate as a sign that you're against her and I'm trying to prevent that. I'm getting Katniss's old prep team to go back to their previous roles, too. It's not just you."

"It doesn't change anything then. This Rebellion that you all fought for - it's the same. Different faces of people in power but nothing's changed. The prejudice still exists and even if she  _did_  snatch the throne from Snow, do  _we_ have to pay for it? You and I, and the rest of the people in the Capitol - is the position reversed? Are the districts punishing us for what our people had done to them?"

Plutarch shook his head and when he looked at her, Effie could tell that he had been pondering the same questions but was too afraid to admit it.

"I don't know."

"You run around trying to end a terrible era and you don't know where you'll end up when we finally win, don't you, Plutarch?"

"I never – I don't allow myself to think about it. I never thought I'd survive this far, to be honest. I live in constant fear that Snow will find out what I've been doing behind his back during the Quell and have me executed, and if Coin is really what Haymitch and I think she is, she'll kill me anyway when the war is won."

"And you're not afraid?"

"Now, my dear, that would be a lie," his lips twitched in a smile. "Maybe I'll go into hiding," he whispered conspiratorially to Effie, a teasing smile on his face but she saw the fear underneath that smile.

"Let's do this one step at a time, okay? Just like how we were taught at Games school - one problem at a time. First, Katniss has to execute Snow."

At Games school, they were also taught to project an image of normality and exude calmness in the face of a problem. She wasn't surprised at how Plutarch could remain irritatingly jovial at days when everyone else seemed to be falling apart. It had been ingrained in them.

Effie returned his smile, picturing him living a life in one of the Districts, hiding from Coin and her men. She thought about what he said, and she thought of Katniss. She had been through so much with Katniss and Peeta since their Games and even if Katniss had never known who Effie really was, she couldn't bring herself to let someone else step in her shoes and do her job. She wanted to be there for Katniss when she took on the task of taking Snow down. Katniss had a bigger, more difficult duty to accomplish, compared to Effie.

She turned towards Plutarch and nodded her head.

"I'll do it. Not because Alma Coin ordered me too, but I'm doing this for Katniss and for all of you."

"Thank you. I'll make sure our Mockingjay knows that," he replied to her, the gratitude lacing his voice.

XxX

Haymitch came to visit her that night. She had fallen asleep but ever since she had been captured, Effie slept lightly. Her body was in constant state of readiness, her fight-or-flight response still sensitive.

She slept on her sides, so when she opened her eyes, she saw Haymitch sitting in his usual chair. His right arm was wrapped in a bandage and Effie could see the red staining the cloth.

He leaned forward slightly when he saw that she was awake.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she said softly.

He lifted a shoulder in response, "Gotten worse than this before."

Effie knew he was referring to the time when he took a blow from an axe to his stomach. She looked at him and slowly her muscles began to relax when she was certain that he bore no ill will towards her.

"I heard from Plutarch that you agreed. You're going to the Capitol," his voice was soft, a low whisper.

"Yes."

"It'll be over soon, Effie. All of this – all the fighting."

She nodded and drifted off to sleep, her hands clenched around one of Haymitch's own.

XxX

The weeks passed by in a flurry of activities. Haymitch's visits became shorter and less frequent. Effie grew restless in her hospital room with each passing moment as she waited anxiously for Haymitch's arrival. He would bring her news and it was only through him that she knew what was going on outside.

There was one routine that Haymitch had never broken despite how busy he was. He still sat by her bed side and asked about her memories. He still tried his best to fill the details in her fuzzy memory and it had once occurred to Effie that he seemed almost desperate for her to remember all that she could. Especially about him.

"They're going to the Capitol soon. Few days, maybe less," Haymitch told her. Her eyes flickered up to her face and for a moment, her breathing stilled.

"They?"

"Yes. Katniss is training with Johanna. The Victors along with Gale, Boggs and his team will be going."

"The Victors," she echoed his words. "You - You are going too then? You are leaving for -"

"No. No, I'm not. I'm supposed to be giving directions to Katniss from here. I'm acting as her mentor," he laughed bitterly. "Coin only wanted the young victors – I was told they make for good television."

_Propos._

Effie had never seen any of the propos but had heard enough from the soldiers that walked down the hospital corridor, the nurses that gossiped in her presence thinking that she wasn't listening and of course from Haymitch. He had often complained about Katniss's total lack of acting abilities.

The days must have escaped Effie because the next time Haymitch came to her room was to tell her that the Victors were gone and he would have to be with Plutarch most of the time. He had to look after his Mockingjay from where he was.

"Can I come with you, Haymitch? To the Control Room?"

He was quick to decline it. "You don't need to see what's going on at the Capitol. That's my job, you stay here, sweetheart, where I know how to find you."

He squeezed her hand and left the room. She didn't see him until a few days later. That was the first time since she woke up in District Thirteen that Haymitch had failed to visit her.

Effie didn't just stay in bed during his absence. She practiced walking knowing that she would have to go back to being the Capitol Escort at any given day and that meant walking in heels.

As she slowly walked down the hallway, Effie heard a commotion, urgent voices outside the nurses' room and she got curious. She slipped into the room and her eyes were immediately drawn to the television screen, just like everyone else in the room. Mrs Everdeen, who happened to turn around when she heard the door creaking moved to stand beside Effie, who had to lean on the wall for support as she stared transfixed at the images playing on the screen.

The Capitol –  _her Capitol_ – was in ruins. Effie had grew up in the Capitol and would always have the fond memories associated with it, but what was done to her deep down the underground of the Capitol was another set of awful memories altogether.

She squinted to make sense of the chaos happening on scene. The Capitol looked like an arena from the Games. She watched as unmanned cars rolled down the streets of the Capitol and it seemed to trigger some kind of explosive as the surrounding areas exploded.

Effie watched in horror as a group of what seemed to be twenty rebel soldiers were blown to bits as they walked down the streets. The potted plants had exploded, killing all of them. She clutched her stomach and desperately tried to hold everything in. Effie hurried out of the room and into her own, her vision was blurry from the tears streaming down her face and she collapsed in front of the toilet bowl. She vomited out everything she ate.

Hearing news of the war going on outside and watching a live update from Beetee who was in the control room was different. Watching it made everything real, just like how watching her first pair of tributes brutally murdered on live television made her realise the atrocity of the Games.

 _It's happening; people are fighting on the streets. People are dying._  She felt the rage radiating off her and her hands curled in a tight fist, her nails digging into her palm.  _Snow._  Effie had never wished for death on anyone but she does now. She wanted Snow dead, wanted him to be held accountable for all the crimes he had committed.

The images of the rebel soldiers played in her mind's eyes and her thoughts went to Haymitch. She was glad to know that he was safe in District 13 – that he was currently in the control room with Plutarch.  _Does that make me selfish?_  She thought guiltily to herself.

She pushed herself to her feet shakily and with her hands on the wall, she managed to guide herself back to the bed where she sat and stared dazedly into space.

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

 

The next time Effie saw Haymitch was when he slipped into her hospital room looking extremely harried and out of breath. He stayed for less than five minutes - enough time to tell her that he had to leave for the Capitol and that he would see her there soon.

As he made for the door, Effie went after him and threw her arms around the surprised man. "Be safe," she whispered.

"I'll see you there," he told her, while avoiding any eye contact with her.

Without Haymitch, Effie had fallen into her old habit of inconspicuously picking up and eavesdropping in on conversations as well as gleaning information from the careless whispers down the hallways. When news of Primrose's death reached Effie she was in too much shock to shed any tears. She tried looking for Mrs. Everdeen but the woman was nowhere to be found. Effie wasn't sure what she would have said to the older woman – she was sorry? She was the one who picked Primrose's name from the Reaping Ball after all. Her youngest daughter was killed and her eldest daughter was the face of the Rebellion; whatever words of apology Effie wanted to convey would not have been enough.

XxX

Effie sat alone at the corner of the hovercraft watching Katniss' prep team as they talked in soft whispers. She could tell that they were as nervous as her. Effie would have sat together with them but she wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

She slipped both her hands underneath her thighs, sitting on them to prevent anyone from seeing the tremors. She wasn't just nervous, she was afraid. In her mind's eyes, there were a thousand ways in which everything could go wrong from here on now to the Capitol. The hovercraft could be attacked by Snow's air fleet, or they could be killed by Rebel soldiers when they landed – they were after all known Capitol citizens. But that was the crux of the matter; Effie didn't feel like a Capitol citizen anymore, hadn't felt like one for the longest time. She loved her city and the first time she realised that she was ashamed of being a Capitol citizen was during the Victory Tour when she saw the state of the districts.

A jerk from the hovercraft as it landed jolted Effie back to reality, signalling their arrival at the Capitol. She rubbed her hands on her long grey dress and disembarked. Haymitch stood there waiting for them and with just one glance Effie could tell that something didn't sit right with him. His clothes were rumpled as usual, but his eyes had lost the focus which Effie had grown used to while at District 13.

When she stepped closer to Haymitch, the smell of liquor wafted through her nostrils and she reeled back in surprise. Images upon images of him invaded her mind, and she remembered him from the time they spent together during the Games. She blinked and shook her head. The visions were sharper and –

"Effie? You gonna stand there all day or what, sweetheart?" he asked rather rudely.

"No, I – Are you okay, Haymitch?"

"Yeah, they've got alcohol here, and I've been –", he paused and fished a silver flask from his jacket pocket. He beckoned for her to follow him as he took a swig of the liquor from his flask.

Effie turned around to make sure that the prep team were not left behind and she saw them trailing behind looking warily at Haymitch.

_He's back to his old self – drunk._

XxX

Effie sat rigid in a chair waiting for Katniss, absentmindedly tapping her pen on the clipboard in her hand. She had on her a metallic gold wig, a skirt that would have had fit her if she had not been so malnourished from her imprisonment and 4-inch high heels that were made out of leather.

When she saw the clothes that had been laid out for her, Effie pursed her lips and counted down to ten, her eyes stung as she tried to hold back her tears. Her armour was right in front of her; she could put it on and be the Effie Trinket that everyone else had come to know. But she didn't want to be known for her role as a District Twelve's escort anymore – that role died when she agreed to go with Haymitch to District Thirteen. She was a – Effie didn't even know who she was anymore.

 _One last time, Effie. For Katniss,_ her fingers trailed across of the blouse, feeling the material under her skin. She got dressed easily enough but the heels were a problem. Her ankle was still weak and she still wobbled when she tried walking in them.

She stood now in front of the vanity staring at her reflection. The person that stared back looked the same; she looked like Effie but her eyes were different. There was no glow of life in it, just an empty blue - lost, haunted and vacant.

Effie inspected herself. Satisfied that no healing bruises on her face or scars peeking from under her blouse could be seen, she made her way to Katniss' room to wait for her.

She had not seen Katniss ever since that night before the Quarter Quell and it hadn't occurred to her to ask Haymitch when she had landed if Katniss knew anything about her time in prison. It was highly unlikely that Katniss had even asked about her – Effie wasn't exactly Katniss' favourite person and she was probably the last person Katniss thought off – but Effie just wanted to be prepared for Katniss' reaction when they met later.

Katniss had to weather so many changes in her life ever since she won the Hunger Games that Effie decided that it was best to treat her the way Katniss had expected from her.

It was then that Katniss walked in and called out Effie's name, almost sounding surprised.

"Effie," Katniss said stopping short just in front of her.

Effie stood up and walked over to her, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hello, Katniss," she greeted warmly as if nothing major had occurred from the time they parted the night before the Quell.

XxX

The hallway where Effie stood waiting for Katniss as the prep team worked on her was long and bright with the wall lamps lighting up the length of the hallway.  _It must be spooky to walk down that hall way at night though,_  she thought to herself.

Craning her neck, she inspected a framed picture hanging on the wall showing President Snow and group of Gamemakers. The date at the corner of the picture told Effie that it was taken three years after Haymitch won his Games.

"Effie," someone called out her name and she turned towards the sound of the approaching footsteps.

She clutched her clipboard and waited for the person to approach her.

"Haymitch," she greeted him. He stared hard at her and looked her from head to toe taking in her appearances. Effie cleared her throat uncomfortably at his scrutiny and his eyes snapped back to look at her.

"Ah, listen - this came from Coin herself. When Katniss is ready bring her down to the second floor, fourth room on the left – some kind of meeting," Haymitch informed her, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Effie nodded and went in to collect Katniss.

XxX

The clothes she was wearing were suffocating. Never before had she felt like this but for the first time, after weeks of being dressed in loose grey clothes, her Capitol fashion seemed foreign on her. Effie tried not to fidget and put in effort into standing straight as she waited for the meeting to conclude. Her ankle hurt and ached the longer she stood waiting for Katniss.

Just then the door opened and Coin marched out looking exceedingly pleased and important. Plutarch who had come by just as the meeting concluded motioned for Effie to enter the room and he went over to Katniss for last minute instructions.

Effie glanced around and saw the Victors. Peeta looked distraught, while Annie and Beetee looked like they had swallowed something bitter. Haymitch stood to one side, an unreadable expression on his face. When he felt her gaze on his, his eyes flitted up to look at her. The silver in his grey eyes looked darker as he stood in the shadow. What worried her was that he looked as though he had aged 10 years from the last time she had seen him.

She tore her gaze away and moved towards Katniss. There would be time to figure out what was wrong with Haymitch but now, she had a schedule to keep. Effie directed Katniss to the front door of the mansion and when President Snow was marched outside and tied to a post, Effie stepped down and took her place beside the Victors on the street.

"Are you okay, Annie?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes focused on Katniss and Snow. The woman was shaking so Effie slipped her hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. Effie dismissed Annie's trembling as nervous jitters at the prospect of seeing the man who had made you suffer executed as you bear witness.

Haymitch was with Plutarch, his grip on the bottle of whiskey so tight Effie could see his knuckles turning white.

"They made us vote," a soft voice whispered.

"What?" Effie asked, turning around to focus her attention on the trembling woman beside her. Annie's grip on her hand tightened and Effie hissed in pain, but Annie seemed oblivious to it.

"President Coin, she made us vote."

"Vote? Vote for what, Annie?" Effie was confused. Her eyes kept flitting from Annie to Katniss who stood poised with her bow and arrow.

"For the last Hunger Games."

"I don't – Annie, what are you talking about?"

It was a well known fact that witnessing her District partner beheaded in front of her during her Games had drove Annie Cresta mad but there were moments when Annie actually made sense. Now was not one of those moments.

"A final game – with Capitol children," she whispered and her wide fearful eyes darted around.

"Annie!" Beetee reprimanded her and stared at Effie.

Effie reeled back and clutched her chest. She felt like she had been punched in the gut and had the wind knocked out of her. The blood roared in her veins, and she heard screaming. For a moment she thought she had screamed out loud but as she looked around trying to make sense of her surrounding, she realised that the chaos happening around her at that moment mirrored the ones currently raging in her mind. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a body plunged down from the balcony to the ground and she barely registered the fact that that body once belonged to Alma Coin.

_A final game with Capitol children._

Annie's words echoed in her head even as she felt someone's fingers closed around her upper arm in a death grip and dragging her to safety, away from the mob.

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

Chapter 27

Effie felt herself dissociate from her body. Her surroundings began to blur and seemed unreal, as though she had separated from her physical form and was now watching as Haymitch dragged her down a corridor. She felt detached from the events that had just happened but the image of President Coin's body falling from the balcony kept replaying itself in her mind. Her visions began to tunnel and Effie started hyperventilating.

The door closed behind her and the hand that was gripping her upper arm in a vice grip gently manoeuvred her to the edge of a bed.

"Breathe, Effs. Breathe in, come on."

"Coin… Is she dead?" she managed to ask, wiping beads of perspiration that had begun to form on her forehead. She had not liked the woman very much and loathed the way Coin had demanded that she returned to her former escort position but she had not wished any ill on Coin. There must have been a reason why Katniss had turned the arrow on Coin instead of killing Snow, a reason that she was not privy to.

"She is."

Haymitch moved to stand in front of her, squatting down so that they were eye to eye. "Effie, it's over. Snow is dead, too. I'm not sure how but he's dead."

For the first time since Effie knew him, she watched with fascination as his eyes sparkled with something akin to hope - for the future. His posture seemed different too, as though a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Effie wasn't sure if he was aware of those slight changes to himself but it warmed her heart to know that what he had fought for was worth it in the end.

Effie launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face on the crook of his shoulder. She sobbed as Haymitch slowly brought his arms around her and patted her back awkwardly. Her emotions were wreaking havoc as she allowed herself to feel the intense emotional reactions to the events that had transpired for the past few months. She was alive. The war was over and she had made it through. Broken and emotionally damaged, but alive nonetheless.

Haymitch pulled her away slightly and his thumb wiped the tears staining her cheeks, ruining the make-up she had to put on for the execution. Effie brought her hands up on either side of his face, looking into his silvery grey eyes.

"It's all over, isn't it?" she asked again, seeking reassurance. "I could –"

"Yes, Effie. Over. We're free. You're free. You're safe."

Her lips found his as she kissed him, hungry and desperate. She poured her emotions into the kiss, feelings that she couldn't put into words – her relief and happiness, and the knowledge that she was safe now.

His lips were soft, and she could taste the whiskey on him. He felt and tasted just like her memories of him, memories that Effie had trouble believing ever happening in the first place. But now that she was here in this room kissing him as he kissed her back, she knew without a shadow of doubt that it had happened. That night at the Penthouse, the kiss in the elevator – it was all real.

His hand was on the nape of her neck as Effie deepened the kiss. She didn't want to consider the consequences of their actions - what would happen to them now that they were free to do what they wanted or if he would go back to District Twelve while she remained in the Capitol. No, all of that felt inconsequential at that moment. All that mattered was that she was here with Haymitch and all she needed was to feel this new foreign emotion building inside her.

Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt but Haymitch was quick to grab her wrist and break the kiss. She whimpered from the loss of contact, and ran her fingers through his hair as he leaned his forehead against her, both of them breathing heavily.

"No, Effie. We can't," he told her regretfully. "There's just so much – You don't know what you're doing, sweetheart. You're still emotionally unstable."

Haymitch had always been blunt and truthful, but this time, she felt those words punching her in the gut and she flinched visibly.

Her hands caressed his check, "I – I do know what I want. You've always been there and –"

"Exactly, Effie! I'm the only person you know and you don't really want me. You're just too fucking attached. Like a … Like a baby who formed a bond with their caregiver, not that I consider myself a caregiver but -"

He ran his hand through his hair and turned towards her. Effie was looking at him wide-eyed, the classic look of extreme shock.

Was it true what Haymitch said? That she had formed a bond with him because he was the one who rescued her and sat vigil by her bed as she slowly recuperated. But he had also been her colleague and she was sure that they must have formed some kind of working relationship. Maybe her subsequent rescue had solidified the bond – Effie wasn't sure. Her thoughts were too confusing and muddled.

"I'm sorry? How dare you! Don't presume that you know what I want or how I feel or… or…"

She felt alive, for the first time in months. The adrenaline pumping in her veins, the fight that clearly had not left her. This was who she was, stubborn and not afraid to hold her ground, and of all the people to have brought it back out – it was Haymitch.

He arched an eyebrow and moved to stand by the window, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Or what, sweetheart? Just a few weeks ago, you don't even know who I am and now, suddenly you're throwing yourself at me? You trust me that much? I've always knew you were naïve, but not this naïve, Effie."

"You're Haymitch Abernathy! You're my colleague, my friend and you care even though you try so hard to hide them! You care and it doesn't make you weak. I know who you are! My memories of you may not be clear enough but I trust you, so why isn't that –"

Haymitch scoffed.

"No, sweetheart, you don't know me and you should never trust me," he stepped forward and rest his palm on her cheek, gazing down at her with a mournful expression.

Despite her frustration and anger, her hand came up to curl around his wrist and hold him in place. She leaned her cheek against his palm, feeling his calloused hand on her smooth skin, his thumb grazing the small scar above her eyebrow.

"Why shouldn't I trust you? You're so good to me, Haymitch."

As though to prove her point, she brought up the vote that Annie had mentioned in what seemed to be a lifetime ago.

"Annie told me the victors were made to vote for a final Hunger Games. You voted against, didn't you? Of course, you would. You would never send any children, even if they're from the Capitol to compete. I know you wouldn't."

Even as she said it, she knew she was wrong. She knew Haymitch had just proven to her that he was right, that he couldn't be trusted and that she didn't really know him. She had her answer when he swiftly looked away, his jaw clenching and his hand falling limply from her cheek to his side.

She reeled back in surprise.

"No –" she shook her head in disbelief. "No. You said yes. You said yes to the Games."

Collapsing on the bed, she stared blankly at the parquet floor. Effie could hear his footsteps as he moved away from her towards the door. Haymitch had fought to end the Games and what had he done in the end? He voted for another Game – another event in which children would still die.

"I'm sorry, Eff. I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to know. I– I have to go… Katniss needs me."

Of course Katniss needed him. It had always been Katniss on his mind, the girl who made the Rebellion possible. Effie couldn't help the stab of jealousy she felt but quickly dismissed those selfish thoughts.

For a long time, she sat in the room, protected from the chaos raging outside as Panem tried to deal with the double deaths of President Coin and President Snow. When she finally stood up to leave the mansion, she knew that at the end of the day, she was alone and she could only rely on herself. Nothing had changed for her – she was still alone in this new world.

 


	28. Chapter 28

 

Chapter 28

It was pointless for Effie to remain in the mansion any longer and she doubted anyone would notice if she left. As she walked towards the door, she caught sight of herself in the vanity mirror and stopped short.

She was so preoccupied with thoughts of Haymitch and the knowledge of his vote that she had all but forgotten about the state of her attire. Effie gravitated towards the mirror and from years of practice, she slowly took out the pins from her gold wig. Her clothes followed soon enough before finally stepping out of her heels.

Finding an oversized buttoned-up shirt which must have belonged to a man who had occupied that room while President Snow was in power, Effie slipped into it and tucked the shirt into a pair of loose black pants which she secured with a belt. There was no need for her to aggravate the citizens outside by dressing as her former self, thus reminding them that she used to be one of the many faces of the Games.

Keeping her head down, Effie managed the slow track amongst the ruins of the Capitol towards the direction of her apartment. Her apartment building might not still be standing but that was the only place she had in mind.

Her eyes flickered briefly to take in her surroundings; the collapsed buildings, the abandoned cars, rubble and dust, and aimless Capitol citizens who had fled their houses when the Rebel forces had stormed the Capitol.

The walk to her apartment took longer than normal as Effie slowly and delicately navigated her way amongst the ruins. She got lost on a couple of occasions when she took the wrong turn but the Capitol was her home and Effie easily righted her course.

The damage done to the buildings and roads became considerably lesser the further she walked away from the City Circle and the mansion. Her apartment was on the outskirts of the city centre and if the rebels' main focus was the president's mansion, her apartment building should still be standing.

XxX

The lilac painted front door of her apartment was slightly ajar and Effie stood frozen for a few seconds, staring at her door. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open slightly and cautiously stepped inside.

Flicking on the switch on her walls, she sighed in relief when the room flooded with light. The electricity still seemed to be working. Her apartment, however, was a mess.

Furniture was overturned, the bookcase had fallen on top of her sofa and the books littered the floor. Her mother's old precious vase, which she had kept all these years because of its sentimental value was broken.

Making her way into her bedroom, Effie was greeted with a similar sight. Her mattress had been pulled away from the bed frame, the bed sheets had been ripped and most of the contents of her wardrobe was strewn and thrown carelessly around the room. She rushed back outside towards where the books lay on across the floor and dropped to her knees, desperately searching for a particular book.

When she found it – an unassuming old school textbook - she flipped it open and sagged in relief against the wall. She had dug out the pages of the book and kept her emergency cash in it. It was a habit she had picked out from her father.

She stepped out of her apartment and walked down the corridor of her floor. Some of her neighbours had returned and Effie gathered from them that her house wasn't the only apartment that had been looted.

Well, at least this gives me something to do.

Effie occupied herself with making her apartment habitable once again. She spent the entire day cleaning and rearranging furniture. It gave her a sense of peace to have a goal to work towards to even if it was short term in nature and most importantly, it took her mind off everything that had happened. Still weak from the injuries she sustained, Effie had to take frequent breaks in between to catch her breath and give her body a rest.

XxX

Effie had not heard from Haymitch since the day at the mansion. That was three days ago. If she was honest with herself, she felt slightly hurt at the fact that she could easily be cast aside and forgotten now that everything had been won.

But all those times in the hospital room of District 13, Effie had thought it would have meant something to Haymitch. That she meant something, but it seemed that she wasn't sure who she was to him anymore. She had never been sure all those years, anyway. Nothing had changed.

Effie assumed that Haymitch was needed elsewhere, some business involving Katniss that he had to settle. In that three days since she came home, Effie had become a recluse as she tried to make sense of her immediate world. She had no news of what was currently going on outside, and truthfully, she felt happier that way.

The burning sun had just set an hour ago and Effie was in the kitchen attempting to make dinner for herself from what little supplies she had managed to salvage from her looted home when there was a tentative knock on her door.

She ignored it and went back to stirring her pot of mushroom soup. Again, somebody knocked on her door - three rapid, impatient knocks.

"Who… Who is it?" she asked as she stood behind her door, a hand on the knob.

"It's me. Open the door, Effs."

Haymitch. She'd recognise that voice anywhere and she should have known - the three rapid knocks was her customary signature. Haymitch always gave three rapid knocks just to mock her, if her memory served her right.

Slowly, she opened the door to see him looking haggard and tired, holding a bottle of wine in his hand with his forehead resting on his arm that he had propped against her doorframe.

Effie stepped back to allow him in and glanced around the room before turning towards her, "I see you've settled in."

"I – Yes, I have."

"Looks different from when I was here last," he commented.

"Oh?" she scrunched her face as she tried to remember the event that he was talking about. The memory came to her after a while - the night Haymitch had asked her to follow him to District 13 when he realised she had nobody in the Capitol.

"My house was looted," she told him simply, crossing the room back towards the kitchen. She ladled the mushroom soup into two separate bowls and pushed one to Haymitch who sniffed at it carefully before spooning some into his mouth.

"You okay?" he asked after a while.

Effie didn't know what he meant - if he was referring to her physical health, or if she fit in well in her apartment with the Capitol a mess around her – so she simply nodded and replied, "Okay."

"Good," he said, a small smile playing on his lips as he poured her some wine and he even managed to surprise her when he poured some for himself in a glass instead of drinking straight from the bottle.

For a moment there, she nearly opened her mouth to ask about his vote with the rest of the Victors but decided against it. There was no need to stoke the fire, not now when the wounds were still fresh. Alma Coin was dead and the Games would never come to fruition. Their vote had not mattered in the end. Perhaps, maybe in the future when they were both not so angry and wounded, she might ask him.

"Effie," he began, "that day at the mansion when… I shouldn't have treated you that way."

His hand reached out to touch her and when he opened his mouth to speak again, Effie interjected, "It's okay, really. I think I may have been too forward, too presumptuous on my part. You're right, I don't really know you and you don't know me either - not outside the context of the Games, anyway."

Effie sipped her wine but let Haymitch continue holding her hand as she tried to maintain an indifferent attitude.

"Effie…"

She shook her head, silencing him. "Let's just enjoy the night."

It wasn't because she didn't want to speak of the events that happened at the mansion but that was the first time that she was alone with Haymitch since everything ended and she really just wanted to savour the moment without their past ruining it.

"You have to let me speak, sweetheart. We do know each other, maybe you don't remember it but I do know bits of you."

Effie paused and waited for him to elaborate but he didn't. Instead he just looked at her with a strange gleam in his eyes that Effie found unsettling. It was as if he was debating whether or not to tell her something that might upset her.

"Katniss's trial was concluded an hour ago."

Effie started in her chair. Trial? She wasn't even aware of the trial, causing her to bite her lip guiltily. She would have gone to the trial, and be there for Katniss if she had known. She chastised herself rather harshly before Haymitch's voice caught her attention once again.

"We're going back to Twelve, sweetheart."

She looked up that and her brows furrowed. "We?"

"Katniss and I. I've been ordered to. Her mother's not coming back, can't come back. So it's up to me."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning," Haymitch replied, his thumb tracing smooth circles on her knuckles. "I came to tell you myself - to say goodbye before you call me when I'm back at Twelve and you know, nag at me at how rude it was to just leave."

Haymitch chuckled as he said the last part and Effie lowered her head to hide the smile gracing her face. He did know her, she realised, even if it was just a little.

"You'll be alright, Effie," he said, patting her hand.

She nodded at his words which sounded strange because it seemed as though he was trying to convince himself rather than assure her.

By some unspoken agreement, they moved from her kitchen to the living room and Haymitch stayed at her apartment till dawn broke over the horizon. Her heart fluttered a little at the thought that Haymitch had willingly spent his last day at the Capitol with her. They spent their time talking to each other with a bottle of wine split equally between them. Naturally, Effie did most of the talking, asking him questions of them and affirming her memories of him - just like how they were back at the hospital in Thirteen – and after much cajoling on her part, he even told her a little about his time growing up in Twelve, when he was sent out of class for putting a cockroach on a girl's bag. His narration had reduced Effie to a fit of giggles as she tried to imagine an eight year old Haymitch, with his cheeky grin and mischievous smile disciplined for a childish prank.

When daylight came, Effie knew their time was up. So when he finally stood to leave, announcing that he had to go or he'd miss the hovercraft, Effie watched him with a heavy heart.

He didn't seem to know what to do with himself as he lingered by her doorway. He held out his hand for a handshake, at the same time that Effie opened her arms for a hug and he smirkedin amusement at that. Shaking her head, Effie stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly on his cheeks. Just as she pulled away, Haymitch stayed her hand before closing the distance between them with a lingering kiss on her lips.

"Take care, Haymitch," she whispered. "I'll see you soon."

They had never talked about the future but she would like it very much if she could still see him every so often. He inclined his head at that and disappeared down the corner of her hallway. Her words proved to be prophetic, for she did see him soon enough except the circumstances were less than ideal.

 


	29. Chapter 29

 

 

The silence of her apartment was something she had welcomed during the early days after spending a considerable amount of time in the hospital of District 13, where there was never any moment of peace and quiet. But after a while, the silence became oppressive and unbearable. It reminded her too much of the deadly quiet of prison, occasionally punctuated by the screams of the tortured and desperate moans of the dying or the cries of Peeta.

_Peeta._

Haymitch had told her as she lounged on the sofa while he sat on the floor with his feet stretched out before him that Peeta was still in a hospital in the Capitol.

At that sudden recollection, she shot out of the love seat and winced in pain at the sudden pressure on her ankle. Hobbling slowly to her room, Effie grabbed her jacket and her purse, and made her way out. She hesitated at her front door, and went back to her apartment where she dropped on a stool and tried to control her breathing.

She had not stepped out of her apartment ever since she returned home. At first, there were simply too many things to be done at home after her apartment was looted and afterwards, she kept telling herself that she didn't need to stock up her groceries that day so she procrastinated. The truth was that Effie Trinket was slightly mortified at the thought of venturing outside. Her breathing had quickened and her heart was beating rapidly in her chest each time she unlocked the door and tried to leave her apartment.

There were so many things that she feared outside, stimuli that would trigger some memories of her imprisonment; fears that kept her anchored to her apartment.  _It would be safer at home._

Effie spent nearly two hours pacing back and forth, exacerbating the ache in her ankle, as she tried to rationalise her actions. When she had finally summed up enough courage, her physically battered body which was still healing from the torture it went through felt extremely fatigued. Her scars were itching and aching.

She shuffled back to her bedroom, and without even changing her clothes, collapsed into bed and fell into a restless sleep.

XxX

The next day was a repetition of the day before. She tried to convince herself to visit Peeta and after one and half hour of debating, she finally made it out. Her palms were sweaty and she kept her head low. Effie focused her gaze on the ground as she walked towards the hospital. The terrified woman had taken care to take a longer unfamiliar route to avoid places that would trigger any memories of her imprisonment.

The hospital was bustling with activities and it seemed as though nearly every room and every bed was occupied by citizens from both the Capitol and the Districts in various states of injury.

"I'm here to see Peeta Mellark," Effie told the harried looking woman manning the front desk.

"Who?"

"Peeta? Peeta Mellark. Umm, former tribute of District Twelve?"

"Oh. Ward 49, Bed 304. 4th floor."

Effie knocked tentatively on his door and peered in. Peeta, engrossed in his painting, had not heard her and Effie let herself in.

"Hello, Peeta," she greeted him.

He looked up and squinted. For a moment, he regarded her curiously before his eyes lit up with recognition.

"Effie!" he dropped the brush he was holding and moved to hug her. When they parted, he gestured for Effie to sit down as he climbed back into bed with a warm child-like smile on his face.

"I almost didn't recognise you! Not because of the tracker jacker venom or anything but you look so different than you usually do," He gestured towards her face which was free of her usual Capitol paint. "You look pretty, Effie."

She blushed and smiled up at the sweet boy.

"Thank you, my sweet. That's a beautiful painting."

He cocked his head to the side bashfully and smiled. "It's the meadow in District Twelve."

"Oh? It's beautiful. I – I've never been there before."

"I'll bring you there once they release me. I'll bring you to the meadow when you visit and we can have a small picnic. We'll ask Haymitch and Katniss along. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Effie nodded, already imagining the scene in her head. It would be lovely to be able to get away to a new place. A place that looked amazingly peaceful judging by what she saw on Peeta's canvas.

Pleasantries aside, Peeta asked about her well-being and she was honest with him. She told him about the nightmares that plagued her sleep, how difficult it was for her to step out of her house and how at times, she would experience vivid flashbacks of her torture. Effie hated the flashbacks the most. It felt as though she was back there in that wretched place.

In return, Peeta confided in her his doubts and fears about Katniss. He confessed that when he had first woken up, his first instinct was to kill the girl and until now, there were moments when he doubted his sense of reality, unable to differentiate if something was real or just existing in his head.

They never once spoke of their time in the clutches of the Capitol. Other than their feelings and worries, they kept the topic relatively light. They talked about Panem, their opinions of how the newly elected President Paylor planned to rebuild the country after the war and what they thought Katniss and Haymitch were doing in District Twelve at that moment.

It was late afternoon when Effie bade Peeta farewell, anxious to be home before nightfall.

XxX

For the next few days, Effie spent most of her afternoons with Peeta at the hospital. He was good company. There were moments where there was a lull in conversation and Peeta would return to his painting while Effie would watch him or read a book.

The first time she had taken out a hardcover book, Peeta looked amused.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I never took you for reading," he replied.

Effie smiled and gave a little shrug before returning back to a different world trapped among the pages. She had never liked reading unless it was fashion magazines but lately she found reading to be a soothing activity. To her, it was a form of escape, to be so embroiled in someone else's story and reality that you forget your own for a moment.

"It's getting dark, Effie."

"What – Oh, yes. I should go then," Effie said as she looked out of the window.

As she walked home that evening, instead of keeping her gaze down, she looked around and observed the little changes happening in the Capitol. The most notable of these changes were the citizens from the different Districts walking down the street, hurrying to their destinations and helping with the cleaning of the Capitol. There were also Capitol citizens working alongside the residents of the Districts. It was a sight to behold.

It was odd initially but as she continued walking, she felt proud at the show of solidarity. Effie wasn't naïve enough to think that all of the Capitol citizens were happy and would willingly offer their help. She was sure that there would be a handful that would resist the change brought about by the new government and the sudden influx of District citizens in the Capitol.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't realise that she had stopped on a broken pavement observing a group of men working together. Some of them were Capitol men and Effie watched as the metrosexual men engaged in manual labour.

"Hey. Hey, lady?"

Effie snapped her head towards a man pushing a wheelbarrow filled with small slabs of concrete. He looked at her pointedly and Effie hastily stepped aside to allow him to pass. After a while, he returned without his wheelbarrow and approached her.

She hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"You look a little lost, miss."

Effie shook her head but kept her gaze focused straight ahead.

"Why don't you come inside?" the man offered, gesturing towards a two story house. It looked like any ordinary house except for a few broken windows and the rubble surrounding the area.

She hesitated but the middle-aged man with his greying hair and dirt stained face smiled kindly up at her.

"Maybe you'll find something you need in there," he nodded again towards the house, "Or you could just stay over for tea."

"Okay," she replied and followed him into the house.

Effie didn't really know what to expect when she stepped into the house. Maybe the man had a wife who was occupied in the kitchen preparing a pot of tea for him as he cleaned up their house or a family - gathered together in the house enjoying each other's company for having survived the war. Whatever it was that she had imagined, it did not prepare her for a room filled with children in mismatched colourful clothes - some of them sitting quietly together, others running around the house chasing one another and shouting at the top of their voices.

It was utter chaos and Effie stood rooted by the door staring at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"That is my doll! You broke her head!"

"It's ugly!"

The man in his red plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows gave her an amused smile.

"You'll get used to it after a while."

She turned to him, noticing his attire for the first and drawing a conclusion that he wasn't from the Capitol. He lacked the Capitol accent and his appearance told her that he was from the Districts.

"These children?" She asked as her eyes swept over the house. She counted nine of them.

"We found them wondering the streets near this area. Their parents are either missing or dead, we're not sure. We don't know. But they needed a place to stay, someone to look after them and this house," he gestured towards the living area, "was amongst that survived the bombing so we housed them here."

There were men going in and out of the house as he led Effie to the kitchen. He explained that they were helping to clean up that area of the Capitol.

"Neil, from District Three," he introduced himself as his wife, Julianne boiled the water for tea. Effie was told that his wife came to the Capitol a few days after the bombing when she knew about the children.

"I'm… My name is…," she couldn't bring herself to tell them who she was. Neil and his wife had been kind to her during their short meeting. They were the first people she talked to other than Peeta and Haymitch since she returned home and she was afraid that they would judge her and hate her for her role during the Games.

"We know who you are," Julianne told her, placing a cup of steaming tea in front of Effie. "Let's not dwell on the past. Not when there are more pressing matters to attend to."

Effie smiled weakly and sipped her tea.

"You're new! I've never seen you before," piped the voice of a child.

"Yes she is, Alexia. Why don't you go outside and play with the rest?"

The girl swept her strawberry blonde hair covering her pretty green eyes to the side and ignored Neil.

"Your dress is pretty," she said, reaching out to touch Effie's dress. "My mummy has pretty dresses, too. But Grandpa Neil said it's lost in the fire."

Effie glanced briefly at the couple who shrugged and shook their head sadly.

"I want to wear pretty dresses again. But Grandma Julienne says I have to share with others. I don't like them. I don't like this dress. Mummy will never make me share."

"Alexia, darling, what did I tell you? Sharing is –"

The girl was violently shaking her head and Effie realised the tell-tale sign of an impending temper tantrum.

"How about I make you look pretty again, Alexia?" Effie offered, bending down so that they were face to face.

"Upstairs, second bedroom to the right, you'll find what you need," Julianne told her softly, brushing back the hair from Alexia's face.

The girl was excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she tugged on Effie's hands impatiently.

As Alexia led her out of the kitchen into the main hall and up the stairs, Effie had already gathered an entourage of three other girls.

The bedroom that Julianne mentioned had bags filled with clothes which Effie deduced they must have salvaged from the neighbouring houses for the children. For a place thrown together in less than a month, the old couple had managed to collect quite a few knick knacks. There were hair clips, headbands and assortments of other trinkets. Not all of them were in good condition so Effie tasked the four girls to sort through the ones that they didn't wish to use.

They were Capitol children who had lived luxuriously surrounded by fashion-driven adults. It took them less than ten minutes before they had what they wanted and showed it to Effie for her approval.

"Good job. We'll just throw the rest into that garbage bag, okay?"

For the next half an hour, Effie brushed their hair, plaited and braided them into different patterns or tied them in a ponytail as they giggled and inspected themselves in front of a broken mirror propped against the wall.

Alexia, who Effie found out was only 8 years old, had hugged her happily. The girl was grinning so widely that Effie couldn't help the smile spreading across her own face. She had no idea what she had done but being in that room with those girls gave her a sense of purpose. For the first time since the Rebellion broke out, Effie knew for certain what she was doing without having to stop and doubt herself.

She had always been good with children although her former employment only ensured that the children under her care were between the ages of twelve to eighteen, for which she was glad.

"I've never seen these girls this happy ever since we brought them here," Julianne remarked as she entered the room. "Okay, girls, you've had your fun. Now go down and get the boys to the kitchen for dinner."

Effie shrugged and stood up, walking along side Julianne.

"I better go. It's getting late."

Alexia heard her and shouted from the kitchen. "Will you be coming back tomorrow, Ms. Trinket?"

"Manners," Effie responded automatically, turning sideways to see Alexia peering into the hallway from the kitchen.

She grinned sheepishly. "That is not very ladylike, is it?"

"It's not," Effie shook her head.

"If you're not too busy, Effie, maybe you could come and visit tomorrow. We could use any help we can get and they seem to get along with you better than us. You're from the Capitol – I don't mean to offend you – but you understand these children better than me and Neil ever could."

"I – I don't…,"

"You'll consider it, at least?"

"Of course, I'll consider it," Effie said.

XxX

She hated the dark because it reminded her of her time as President Snow's hostage. Effie had never walked that fast before, motivated by the lack of the street lamps that had not been replaced following the aftermath of the war. It made the streets more eerie at night.

Effie was severely out of breath by the time she reached her apartment building and even that made her panic - the racing of her heart and the desperate need to get air into her lungs were all physiological responses she felt while being tortured.

Slamming the door, Effie collapsed on her sofa. After a while, when she felt herself beginning to calm down, she blindly reached for her phone on the side table. She had never tried calling Haymitch ever since he left; not wanting him to think that she couldn't function without him.

She wanted to talk to him now – tell him that Peeta was doing well, that she was doing well, to ask about him and Katniss, to tell him about the house with nine children and the nice old couple who didn't look at her in disgust or judge her.

Effie dialled his number but the call failed to connect. Effie wasn't sure if Haymitch had ripped out his phone or… worse, Victor's Village didn't survive the bombing. She gnawed her lips worriedly as her mind ran through the various ways she could get in touch with him. It wasn't long before the exhaustion overcame her and she fell asleep on the sofa the problem with Haymitch temporarily forgotten.


	30. Chapter 30

A scowl thrown in her direction was all it took for Effie to increase her speed, desperate for the relative safety of Peeta's hospital room where she did not have to face the public. Her chest was heaving and her breath came out in short bursts.

"You're packing?" Effie blurted out in surprise as she pushed herself from the door she was leaning against towards where Peeta was sitting with a small, brown duffel bag.

"Yes," he gave her a small grin. "I'm going back to Twelve. The doctors declared me fit. Why are you out of breath?"

Effie tried to compose herself. She smoothened out her dress, patted her blonde hair and righted the vase on Peeta's bedside table before sitting gingerly at the edge of his bed. News like Peeta's discharge from the hospital seemed to spring up on her on the eleventh hour giving her no time to mentally prepare herself for yet another person's departure from her company.

"N-nothing. It's just – there was a man down the hallway, a citizen here. He doesn't look too happy to see me."

Peeta nodded sympathetically and patted her hand.

"I've been trying to call Haymitch but I can't get through. I'm not sure if he's moved or he's ripped his phone out, as usual," Effie changed the subject, laughing lightly as she said it.

"I don't think he moved. He's responsible for Katniss, remember? And Katniss should be at Victor's Village," Peeta said, glancing up at her.

"Oh," Effie replied softly, picking out lint from her dress. "In that case, would you mind giving him a letter? I haven't written it yet, but I can do it now."

The letter was brief. She explained that she was well - omitting out all the hardships, the nightmares and flashbacks she experienced – and that she hoped he was doing well in Twelve. She had asked him to call her and had even written down her number just in case he had forgotten.

Effie stayed with Peeta until a government representative came to collect him a few hours later. Just before he stepped out of his room, Peeta hugged her tightly. She would miss him terribly. Effie blinked the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes away and by the time she pulled back, she had a smile planted on her face.

"Here," he said, holding out a canvas for her. "It's the painting of the Meadow in Twelve. You seemed to like it so you can have it."

"Thank you," she whispered and he swooped down to kiss her cheek.

"I'll see you soon, alright?"

XxX

It was slightly past lunch when Effie left the hospital and made her way towards the same street she took the day before.

When she reached the two-storey house, Effie stopped by the pavement and watched it from across the street, unsure if she should go in.

"Effie!" someone excitedly called out for her.

Looking up, she saw Alexia peering out of the second floor bedroom window waving enthusiastically, her hair still in the same braid Effie had made for her.

The front door opened and a young boy with electric blue hair stepped out to squint up at Alexia.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be hiding!"

"I don't want to play anymore. Effie's here," Alexia replied, pointing out to Effie who was just crossing the street towards the house.

"Hello," she greeted the boy who looked up at her curiously.

"Hullo," he replied glumly. "We were playing."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your game."

He gave Effie a half smile but stepped back to let her in. "We're not supposed to let strangers in but I saw you yesterday. So I think you're okay."

The house was noisy though it was nothing out of the ordinary with nine children living in it. The group of men Effie saw cleaning the streets the day before was sitting around the dining table, eating and drinking.

Julianne waved and hurried out to greet her. "I'm so glad you've decided to come back! The children will be delighted!"

"N-no. I was just passing – "

"Most of them are upstairs playing some sort of game. Have you eaten? You could join us if you haven't! It's not much; food is still heavily rationed here. But I'm sure you know all about that!"

Effie nodded and extricated her hands from Julianne's excited grip. "I'll go see the kids. Please say hello to Neil for me."

Her foot barely landed on the last step on the stairs when she heard shouting from one of the room. Opening the door, she saw Alexia jumping on the back of a boy with familiar electric blue hair and yanking it hard.

"Get off! You're crazy! You're just like them, you're crazy!"

"My mother's not dead! She's not!" screamed Alexia, her face a blotchy mess of tears.

The rest of the children were too stunned to do anything and could only watch in fright. Effie had never before seen Capitol children engaging in such absurd, physical fights. She pulled Alexia off the boy and the rest of the boys were quick enough to hold him back.

She buried her face in Effie's stomach, her hands around Effie's waist. Someone approached and silently handed her a dirty handkerchief.

"What's the matter?" Effie asked the boy. "You were getting along just fine and now you're fighting?"

"She started it," he petulantly gestured towards Alexia.

"He said my mother's a traitor and that she's dead. What's a traitor?"

Effie sighed and sat on the floor, cradling a sobbing Alexia in her arms. The others followed and gathered around her.

"What's your name?" she asked the boy looking at her defiantly.

"Isaac."

Effie managed to coax Isaac into sitting down beside her. After several moments of cajoling, he finally told her his version of what transpired between them. The fight broke out when one of the children had brought up the possibility of Effie knowing about their parents' fate. "She's from here! I can tell from the way she speaks. I'm sure she can help us."

Alexia, who was only trying to be helpful had suggested that they make posters of their parents so they would know how to get them.

"We're not lost puppies, Alexia," Isaac laughed, cruelly dismissing her idea. "You're such a baby."

Alexia was quick-tempered and had not taken kindly to Isaac laughing at her.

As the story unfolded, the rest of the children who had borne witness supplemented the tale with bits and pieces of information. They told Effie how he had retaliated by saying nobody would come for her because her mother was dead. He accused Alexia's mother of helping the Rebels stormed the Capitol.

"I heard it. I know – my father told my mother once – something about a group of Capitol rebels! It's true, I'm not lying."

Effie knew they existed. Haymitch had told her that little nugget of classified information they obtained from the rebels in the Capitol led to the discovery of the cell where Effie was kept captive.

"Well, Isaac, you don't know for certain if her mother was one. And it's not very nice to accuse someone of anything without concrete proof."

"I wish they'd all die - all the Rebels and the Mockingjay. I'll have my parents back and I could go home."

Her heart clenched so painfully upon hearing the vindictive words of an orphaned twelve years old. Effie wanted so much to tell him that the Rebellion would bring about a change and that the world would be a better place but she knew that that was not what he needed to hear. He wouldn't understand how it could be any better than the life he had led all along. Losing his parents to the war was the worst thing he had ever gone through.

Effie held her arm out and pulled him close. He resisted her but after sometime he clutched the fabric of her dress and wept.

"Some of your parents are gone; some of them are still missing. But right now, you only have each other. Fighting won't do you any good, you understand? Stick together and look out for each other. Neil and Julianne will look after you as best as they can. They may be different; come from a different place, speak with a different accent but they're good people and they will help you. Times are changing and I know you're all very young but you'll learn to adapt to these changes, okay?"

They look up at her with their big wide eyes, bobbing their heads up and down in understanding. She stroked Alexia's hair and looked at Isaac who was wiping away his tears.

"And you? Won't you be here?" he asked.

"Of course she'll be here, silly! Who will brush our hairs!" piped one of those girls.

"You girls are stupid! You can't even –"

"Ah, ah, ah, that's enough. It's rude to call other people stupid," Effie rebuked a boy and ruffled his hair when he looked chastised.

XxX

That was how Effie came to spend nearly every day at the house with the children. As days passed, the streets began to clear of debris and vehicles were once again seen driving past the house.

Neil built a fence around the house which the boys helped to paint with his guidance. There were a lot of laughter and shouting as they engaged in an activity they had never done before. When Julianne and Effie finally got them to shower that evening, the water that ran down from their bodies were stained blue with paint.

The boys even hung up Peeta's painting of the meadow at the living room with Effie's help. The girls cooed over the beautiful, colourful flowers that Peeta had managed to capture so beautifully.

Julianne taught the girls little things in the kitchen and household chores. Effie entertained them when they wanted to play dress up and she also learned a thing or two about baking apple pies from Julianne. Alexia began to shadow Effie wherever she went in the house; mimicking her mannerisms, speaking like her and she even told off Isaac one evening for talking when his mouth was full – his manners temporarily forgotten as he tried to get his story out as fast as possible.

"A gentleman would have enough manners to know not to speak when their mouth is full," she glared. "Isn't that right, Effie?"

Effie's raised both eyebrows in astonishment and had to hide the smile on her face. "Absolutely."

Psychologically, Effie got better. Her flashbacks, while still bothering her was less frequent and only occurred when she was alone at home. Her nightmares still plagued her but being with the children gave her back her confidence. She was more willing to venture outdoors now. Maybe the children gave her courage or perhaps she did it because she was determined to find their parents, if they were still alive.

Each day, before going to see the children, Effie went from one centre to another. These centres had been set up all over the Capitol. She spent hours screening for any posters of missing children that might fit any of those nine she knew.

While she was kept busy, the anxiety at not receiving Haymitch's phone call even after days since Peeta left was kept to a minimum. She was therefore pleasantly surprised when Haymitch called her one night. He had misjudged the time and it was two in the morning when her phone rang incessantly loud.

"I'm so glad you called, I'm not even going to bring up the time!" she had exclaimed, her sleepiness evaporating by the second.

He slurred out an apology. "Got your letter – I'm alright. Everyone's alright."

"Katniss?"

"She's alright - days pass without her speaking sometimes but hey, she's alive, yeah?"

"What happened to your phone?"

"I dunno; never bothered. I'm at Katniss' house, kid was screaming in the middle of the night. She's quiet now, Peeta's with her."

"How's Peeta when he is around Katniss?"

"Cautious. I think he's afraid he might attack her. But… I think they're learning to trust each other."

Effie told him about Neil and Julianne, the lovely children she had grown to care and her quest to find any news she could about their parents. She asked if Haymitch had any knowledge of the identities of any Capitol rebels, "No, not really" came his reply.

"I'll keep trying," she told him.

XxX

Effie heard bits and pieces of news about how important figureheads under President Snow's regime were being arrested and brought back to the Capitol as they fled when the City Centre was bombed.

It was a fine Friday evening and the despite the sun's scorching heat the children were still happily running around on the lawn, playing a game of tag. Effie was sitting beside Isaac on the front step of the house watching over the children when he broke the news to her as he read out loud from the papers.

"Adrian Fox, former Head Peacekeeper in the Capitol was found in the waters of District Four yesterday morning. He was hauled back to shore and is being prepared to be transported back to the Capitol to answer for his crimes," Isaac read.

He put the papers down and looked up at her. "Why was he arrested? He was a Peacekeeper. My father said they kept Panem safe. He's a good person!"

"He isn't," Effie replied quietly. She had not heard his name for a very long time and had tried so hard to bury the horrifying, painful memories she had of him as she tried to rebuild her life.

Effie left early that day, desperately wanting to be alone. The children had sensed her rather gloomy mood and as endearing as they might be, Effie wasn't sure how to answer them when they asked if she was okay or if she was sad or if Effie would like help them with the gardening out front.

"Come on, Effie! Flowers will make you happy," one of them had said as she tugged on Effie's hand.

She buried herself under the covers, and tried to clear her mind just as instructed in one of those books she had on various relaxation techniques that was supposed to help her deal with anxiety. It worked and she was already drowsy with sleep when a loud, sharp knock jolted her out of her senses.

There were two men standing outside her door dressed neatly in a dark blue uniform.  _Paylor's military police._ They had been set up to take the place of Snow's peacekeepers and to execute the temporary laws set up by President Paylor's government.

"Effie Trinket? We're from the criminal justice division. You are under arrest for crimes perpetrated against humanity."

 


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The orange hue of the setting sun over the horizon fell and cast a shadow on Effie. She squeezed her eyes shut. Effie wasn't sure whether it was against the stinging glare of the sunset or the tight grip the military police had on her arm as she was led out of her building towards the car.

Nobody spoke to her during the entire car ride. All of her questions fell on deaf ears. When the car finally pulled into a plain, unassuming building, the two men gestured for her to step out. They did not treat her roughly but Effie still felt immensely threatened by their presence.

She went through the motions in a daze the entire time that Effie was being processed. Her fingerprints were taken, her height and she was also photographed before being led down a corridor with numerous units of rooms each with a silver metallic door.

Her eyes widened and a loud gasp escaped her lips. "No."

"No, I can't go back in there," she whispered in horror. It wasn't the same prison cell during the Rebellion but they were all the same to her. "I haven't done anything!"

She screamed as the door shut in her face. Effie pounded on the door, shouted and yelled until her voice was hoarse but still no one came. She had no idea how long she sat huddled on the small bed covered only with thin sheets. There was a metal sink and a toilet by the corner but Effie was optimistic enough to think that there must have been some kind of mix-up and she would soon be freed, barring the need for her to use the toilet. There was a small window high up on the wall and the pale moonlight was the only light in the enclosed room.

If there was one thing Effie could count on, it was the companionship of her nightmares that night.

XxX

Some days later, a guard came and stood by her door motioning for her to step out and she did so eagerly.

"Have you finally discovered your gross blunder? You wrongly imprisoned me and I will be sure to bring this up to your superiors!"

Even though Effie was shaken up inside after spending nearly three days in confinement, her voice was sharp and shrill. Effie was disappointed when the guard did not respond. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to even if it was just a prison guard.

The room Effie was brought in was brightly lit with good air ventilation. In the middle of the room was a table with chairs and Plutarch Heavensbee was sitting on one of those chairs twirling his fingers together.

"Plutarch!" she ran forward to greet him and fell into his open arms with relief.

"Effie," he said before drawing back slightly. Plutarch nodded towards the guard who closed the door and stood outside.

"Can I go now? The kids must be so worried."

"Kids?" he frowned. "No, listen Effie – you've been arrested for your position as an Escort. They are screaming murder out there. The people in the districts want you to be held accountable for the children reaped for the Games all those years. They are angry and restless. Are you following me so far? Do you understand?"

The blood drained from her face. She heard him calling out her name repeatedly and nodded dumbly having lost all grip on reality after she heard the word  _arrested, escort_  and  _murder._

"I don't – You were a Gamemaker! Were you arrested?"

"I was tried and cleared - for my role in the Rebellion," he answered quickly when he saw Effie's puzzled expression. "I would have come sooner but my trial just ended hours ago. I don't have much time, Effie. You weren't allowed visitors but being me has its advantages. Ask me any questions you might have and I shall try to answer them best as I can. But be quick about it," his eyes flickered briefly at the guard outside the door.

"How long since I've been arrested?" she asked the first question that flitted through her mind.

"Three days."

"The papers – people are being arrested to be tried for their crimes," she said suddenly, recalling the Friday of what seemed like ages ago.

"Yes. Snow's henchmen, former Gamemakers, head peacekeepers in the districts and you would know the notorious Adrian Fox, of course."

Effie nodded, a shiver running down her back at the thought of her torturer.

"What would become of me, Plutarch?"

The uncertainty of her future scared her more than anything. She was so foolish to think that she could begin to rebuild her life after the war, so naïve to believe that she was safe in that new world. Never once did it cross her mind that she would be called upon to answer for the 10 years she spent as an Escort, for having a hand in the killings of innocent children. Effie had borne the guilt and she supposed she was trying to assuage her guilt by helping Alexia and Isaac and the rest of the children.

Effie had always wanted to work for the Games. Each year when it was time for the Games, the Capitol came to life like never before. There were glamorous parties to go to, sales going on in the Capitol, everyone bustling to get a new look each year just in time for the Games and of course, choosing the favourite Tributes. She loved that lifestyle and dreamt of being shot to stardom when she was given the chance to work for the Games.

Effie threw a party for her friends when she received the letter accepting her as an Escort. She packed her bags and went to Games School where she met Plutarch Heavensbee. Seneca was already a year ahead of her and waited eagerly by the school's front gate on her first day of school. Effie spent two years in school before she was assigned her District – the lowest district in Panem.

What nobody told her was that the Games changed not only the Victors but those involved in it, too. It changed her and by then, it was too late for her to quit without incurring President Snow's wrath. How was she to explain to him that she couldn't bear sending the kids out to the arena, not after she had spent weeks with them together?

Haymitch was an enigma to her initially. She never understood how the once handsome, arrogant boy whose eyes alone could enchant a posse of girls could fall from grace. He was a Victor and he was supposed to live up to his glory, instead he was chugging alcohol since the first hour she met him. When she lost her first pair of Tributes, Effie had visibly cringed upon seeing the boy lying in a pool of his own blood. Her perspective changed. Just two days ago, she had taught him how to use the utensils for dinner and how he had nodded in understanding when Haymitch told him to find water. He was dead now. No more life, no more breath. Effie would never hear him speak again, or as Haymitch had sneered at her, would never grow up and have a family.

The first time she knew that Haymitch had never left the arena was two Games later. He was sprawled out on the sofa with a bottle of Vodka clutched tightly in his hand. It was not an unusual sight except the he was mumbling a name over and over again and thrashing in his sleep. She tried shaking him awake but he was too deep in the throes of his nightmare to hear her so Effie took one of the throw pillows and smacked him on his arm. It was a good thing too because when he did woke up, he plunged his knife straight into the pillow which Effie held defensively infront of her chest. Effie screamed and stared at Haymitch in shock.

The pillow fell on the floor as Effie fled into her room with her heart lodged firmly in her throat. That moment changed her. Effie began to look at Haymitch differently and understood his dependency on alcohol. While she admonished him constantly to limit his consumption during the day and help the Tributes, she left him alone at night knowing the alcohol helped drown his nightmares.

And there she was now, sitting across Plutarch worrying about her fate, the same way all the children she reaped must have felt as they sat across her during the dinner the night before the Games.

"Nothing will become of you. I will make sure of it," he said, squeezing Effie's hand lightly. "It's just a political statement. President Paylor is not heartless but it would not do for the government to let what happened for the past 75 years of the Games go unpunished. People are demanding that something be done. You are the only escort left. The rest are all dead; executed by the Rebels during the carnage at the City Centre or killed by Snow's Peacekeepers much like Peeta's prep team."

 _You're the only escort left._  She filed the information away and listened quietly as Plutarch informed her of her upcoming trial.

"It'll be at open court. They will ask you everything. You have to be prepared for everything to come out in the open. We'll tell them your involvement with the Rebels, your imprisonment –"

"I didn't really help much with the Rebellion," she muttered softly, chewing her lips worriedly.

"You helped Haymitch. You covered his whereabouts and we'll bring that up."

"Is that enough?" she countered. "Does he know that … Is he aware that I'm here?" she asked after a while.

"I called Peeta before I came to see you, so yes, Haymitch knows."

She fell silent. A part of her wanted to ask if Haymitch would be there at the trial but a part of her was not prepared for the answer to that.

"Effie, I have to warn you – they might bring in Adrian Fox at your trial but we'll try to avoid that, if possible."

She yelped when Plutarch said that. The guard came running in but Plutarch held up his palm and the guard left them alone before barking out a harsh "5 minutes left!"

"Why… No, Plutarch, I can't face him."

"I know it's difficult, Effie, but it's inevitable. He may be called to give testimony the moment we mention that you were taken captive by President Snow. I'm not sure yet but I want you to be prepared in case it happens."

"Can't I go home until the trial?" she asked hopefully.

"No, you can't. You have to be detained till then."

Effie wanted to scream and rage. She dug her nails into the palm of her hands to control herself. And before long, the guard came in to guide Effie by her elbow out of the room back into her unit.

"You'll be okay, Effie. Nothing will happen to you!" Plutarch shouted after her.

She was half way down the corridor before she remembered and turned her head back to shout at Plutarch.

"Crane! Fabius Crane – the doctor. He was there. He could help me!"

Whether or not Plutarch heard her, Effie wasn't sure because she could not see his large bulky frame from where she was.

XxX

Effie noted that she was treated better as a prisoner under President Paylor's administration than she was under President Snow. Then again, Snow had accused her of being a traitor.

Yes, she had betrayed her President but as far as Effie was concerned, she did not betray the Capitol. While the Capitol was her home and she loved it, the Games had opened her eyes up; she wasn't sure if she agreed with President Snow's methods of aligning the Districts by means of the Hunger Games. Snow had corrupted them all, divided Panem up and Effie had helped the Rebellion so that Panem could be a better place that she really could call a home.

She was provided with three meals a day although prison food wasn't what she was accustomed to. But it was better that the dry bread she constantly had to soak in water under Snow's hospitality. Her nightmares got worse and she had resorted to staying awake with eyes wide open. She would stare at the door for hours afraid that at any moment Adrian Fox would waltz in with a smug grin on his face as he described in detail how he planned to torture information out of her.

Alexia and Isaac were constantly on her mind. They were the few positive thoughts she held on to as she battled the demons in her head. Even Haymitch seemed twisted in her head. He often appeared in her nightmares laughing jovially at her, his voice laced with malice each time he said that she deserved to be in prison, she deserved whatever punishment was meted out to her.

Eighteen dead children haunted her in her sleep – ten years and eighteen children. They suffocated her, tried to drown her, left her alone to be mauled by mutts and shouted with glee each time she pleaded for their help.

Her mood shuffled between anger and fear. Plutarch had said that all of the other escorts were gone and it seemed likely that she would have to bear the brunt of the Districts' anger. Was she supposed to answer for 75 years' worth of Hunger Games, for all the Tributes reaped during that time? The Games were far older than she was and Effie began to despair and lose hope. The desolation enveloped her so strongly that she was certain this would truly be the end of her.

She asked the young guard if he knew anything about her trial and after making sure that none of his superiors were near, Effie was told that her trial would be among the first as she was the only Escort to be tried. There was huge press coverage for the trials and knowing this piece of information did nothing to calm her nerves.

XxX

During her entire stay in the small prison, Effie had never been handcuffed. The guards never deemed her enough of a threat to warrant it. However on the day of her trial, she held out her hands in front of her as they cuffed and led her out. She discarded her grey prison jumpsuit and was dressed in a simple dark blue dress for her trial. Plutarch had sent her the dress explaining that anything bright and colourful would just remind the public of who she was.

She kept her head low and looked at no one as she took her assigned seat in the defendants' gallery. Plutarch had briefly told her about the tribunal set up for the purposes of the trials consisting of esteemed citizens from across the Districts and the Capitol.

The room fell silent the moment she was brought it in and the more she told herself to gather her courage, the stronger was the urge for her to fall apart and surrender to her fate. Effie couldn't see Plutarch and that made her nervous. The double brass doors opened and President Paylor walked in taking her seat on the raised platform. Only then did Effie allowed herself to look up and glanced around the court room. It was full house and for a moment, Effie had the impression that half the country were there.

She bit her tongue in the nick of time to stop herself from crying out in relief when she saw Haymitch sitting by himself in the last row. Peeta and Katniss, who looked like she would rather be anywhere other than the Capitol, were on the row in front of him. At that moment, Haymitch sensing her gaze turned to look straight at her. His jaw was set and his face was grim. But when their eyes met, his steely grey eyes softened. He nodded at her once encouragingly before Paylor banged her gavel and everyone sat back down.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Effie had no idea when or how the trial started. The counsels made their opening statements which Effie paid no attention to. She tried hard to regulate her breathing and remain seated, even trying to comfort herself when she noticed that they had not chained her to the seat providing her with a small measure of relief.

When she did look up, she only looked at Haymitch who was resolutely avoiding her gaze. It puzzled her but knowing he was there calmed her a little. Sensing someone approaching her, her head swivelled to the small lithe woman Effie knew as the prosecutor. She smiled at Effie lightly though her eyes were hard.

"Please state your full name for the record," she said.

Effie cleared her throat and as manners would dictate, sat up straighter before answering, "Euphemia Trinket."

The entire court room had gone silent the moment she spoke. The questions started out easy enough and Effie answered them truthfully just as Plutarch had told her to.

"What is your occupation, Ms. Trinket?"

"I'm – I don't have… I'm unemployed now."

"Very well. What was your occupation before the Rebellion and during the time of the Rebellion?"

Effie licked her lips and tried not to let her nervousness show. She glanced briefly at the group of seven tribunal members sitting on a raised platform watching her interestingly.

"I worked as an Escort for District Twelve."

"Before and during the Rebellion?"

"Yes."

The woman walked up to where Effie was sitting and slid a piece of paper to her.

"Can you identify that document for the Court, Ms Trinket?"

Effie's eyes flickered up to the prosecutor before she examined the exhibit before her.

"It's a letter; to inform me that I've been accepted as an Escort," she answered before returning the document to the Prosecutor.

She was handed another document and was asked to identify it again.

"This is my letter of employment," her voice had taken on a resigned, monotonous tone.

"And that would be your signature at the bottom - the one next to President Snow?"

"Yes."

"It would be correct to say that you worked for the Games; that you worked for the late President Snow?"

"Yes, but – "

"Let the record reflect that the accused answered the question in affirmative," the prosecutor said to one of the Court clerks.

"How long have you been working as an Escort?"

"Ten years. The 75th Games would have been my 11th."

The prosecutor nodded; pleased that Effie's answer matched the information on her legal pad.

"And how many children did you reap during your tenure as an Escort?"

Effie's eyes lingered at a woman sitting on the front bench sketching on her notepad looking up occassionaly to study Effie quietly before returning to her sketch pad. Her eyes glazed through the reporters in the Court room before chancing another glance at Haymitch but he was staring at the back of Plutarch's head. It made her slightly angry and annoyed. It made her feel as though he had already passed his judgment and that she was not worthy of his attention.

"Miss Trinket, please answer the question."

"Twenty," she said, her voice hard with irritation at Haymitch.

"How many of those twenty children returned to District Twelve?"

"All of them," Effie said after a slight pause.

The prosecutor looked down at her shoes, a hand resting on the wooden bannister separating Effie from the rest of the people. She shook her head and chuckled softly so that only Effie could hear.

"Let me clarify that question for you, Ms. Trinket. How many of those twenty children returned to District Twelve alive?"

"Two – Katniss and Peeta."

"The other eighteen?"

She stopped breathing and her eyes took on a faraway look. The nightmares she kept having in her jail cell became very vivid in her mind. She began to relieve each death as it replayed itself in her head the same way she watched them die on a television screen all those years ago – asphyxiation, impalement, starvation, wound infection; the list went on. Eighteen different causes of death.

"They died in the arena."

There was an eerie silence as the Prosecutor allowed Effie's answer to sink into the collective minds of the enthralled audience in the courtroom.

"The prosecution rests, Your Honour."

XxX

One look at Plutarch and Effie knew that he had not been expecting the Prosecution to rest their case so soon without calling in any other further witnesses. With her elbows resting on her knees, Effie covered her face with the palm of her hands, immensely relieved that Adrian Fox would not be taking the stand.

"Effie, come along. Come on," Plutarch coaxed her out of the stand.

Her hands were once again handcuffed and she was led to a holding room. Plutarch asked politely for the guards to remove her handcuffs and opened the door to let her in. It took her no more than three steps before she stopped abruptly at the sight before her. Haymitch was standing by the window with his back to her gazing out silently.

"Haymitch?"

He spun around so fast at the sound of her voice and staggered back a few steps when Effie suddenly launched herself at him. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly and all the pretences she tried to keep up during the trial and the annoyance she felt abandoned her. She clutched him and cried, her tears staining his shirt.

She felt him stroking her hair and lifted her slightly in her arms before depositing her on the chair. When he pulled back, Haymitch laid his palm on both sides of her head forcing her to look at him.

"Stop crying. Stop crying, Effie. You did well. I need to you be a little stronger for a little while. Wipe away your tears, now," he told her as he crouched in front of her.

She tried. Effie really did try to stop crying and stem the flow of tears but it only made her sob harder. She was going to lose everything; her life as well as her freedom. Not to mention losing Haymitch just when they had finally managed to begin tolerating each other. She would lose this new found, rocky friendship she had with Haymitch if they found her guilty and sent her away.

"Effie, Plutarch and I have a plan. It might work. Adrian Fox's trial will be coming up right after yours. If you agree to testify against him – tell the Courts all the wrongs he has done to you - we can make a plea bargain with the Prosecution. The prosecution is prepared to accept this. You'll plead guilty to a lesser charge and they will mitigate your sentence. You just have to agree. It's simple, Effie. Just testify against him."

Her hand pulled back on its own accord and Effie delivered a resounding slap on Haymitch's cheek. His head snapped back and his hand shot out to the floor to prevent himself from toppling over.

"God damn it, woman! What did you slap me for?!"

"How dare you – I thought you were going to help me!"

"I am trying to help you, you fool!"

"By sending me to prison?" she countered angrily.

"It's the best offer you have right now, Effie. Your will receive a lesser charge with a mitigated sentence, a lesser prison time," Plutarch stepped in taking on the role of a mediator.

"What about what you told me last time? About my role in the Rebellion. You said even if I had not helped much I still did help in the end," she questioned desperately.

The thought of testifying against Adrian Fox was making her skin crawl and stomach churn. How was she supposed to confront the face of her nightmare? He haunted her nights and to see him and recount the horrors she faced in prison to everyone was terrifying her.

Plutarch nodded at her and glanced at Haymitch who was rubbing his cheek. He had retreated to a corner looking surly and seemed to have given the floor to Plutarch to do the necessary talking and convincing.

"We still have that, of course. And you told me about the orphanage with the children that you volunteered in. That could help in –"

"It's not really an orphanage, it's more like – "

"Yes, just an issue of technicalities, my dear," Plutarch said soothingly. Both the men knew that in condition of extreme stress, Effie would nit-pick of the finer details to get her mind off the bigger issue. "You have to make up your mind. The Court is on recess now and it would be impossible to adjourn the trial at this stage."

"I don't want to testify against Fox, Plutarch," she whispered so softly.

"Are you sure, Effie? Are you really sure?"

"I can't face him."

Effie jumped when Haymitch slammed his fist against the table. He leaned forward and his face was mere inches from her.

"You are far stronger than this, Effie Trinket. I know you have the courage to face that man. Find it because you're making a foolish decision."

He straightened up and stalked out of the room, slamming the door forcefully behind him. Effie cringed from the sound of it and the anger she felt radiating off him. She looked at Plutarch uncertainly who tried to give her a comforting smile.

"It's your choice. I'll give you some time to yourself," he patted her shoulder before leaving her alone in the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there :) Nine more chapters to go.


	33. Chapter 33

Her face crumpled at the enormity of the choices before her. Beads of perspiration had already begun to form on her forehead and her nose. The fear had made her palms sweaty and the room's humidity did nothing to help her calm down.

Effie leaned forward on her chair, elbows resting on her knees with the heel of her palms digging into her eyes. A moan of distress escaped her lips when memories of Adrian Fox began to once again resurface in her mind. She could smell him – he constantly smelt of sweat and blood from the thick Peacekeeper uniform he wore and the beating of prisoners as he roamed the dungeon cells like an angel of death.

The mere thought of him made her knees weak and the bile to rise in her throat. Effie had no idea how she would cope if she had to face him once again. Haymitch had told her that she was far stronger and that she should find the courage to testify, but it was easy for him to say. He wasn't the one who was beaten up by Fox. Haymitch wasn't the one who had to endure the physical and mental torture inflicted on her by a psychopathic man.

It felt like mere seconds later when the door opened again and Plutarch stepped in.

"Have you made your choice?" he asked softly.

Effie blinked and stared ahead of her.

"I can't testify against him, Plutarch," she told him. Plutarch hung his head and exhaled slowly.

"Very well, then."

He sounded disappointed.

"Surely there are others who could testify against him – other prisoners?"

"There are. Mostly from the Districts and the ones from the Capitol – most of them didn't make it out alive. If they did, they made the same decision as you did. They don't want to step forward. I tried locating them, Effie but most just wanted to put it behind them."

XxX

Effie was led back to the Court room and the trial started without further delay. It was the defence's turn for cross-examination and Plutarch now stood before Effie, smiling encouragingly at her as he buttoned his suit together.

"Ms. Trinket, you told the prosecutor this morning that you were the escort for District Twelve for 10 years?"

"That's correct," she answered.

"Apart from Ms. Everdeen and Mr. Mellark, the other tributes did not make it out of the arena alive?"

"Yes."

"10 years, Ms Trinket. And in that 10 years did you not feel that the Games were wrong?"

"Of course, I did. I wasn't –"

"Objection!" the Prosecutor cried angrily. "He's leading the witness!"

The judge sustained the Prosecutor's objection but for some strange reason, Plutarch had a grin on his face. Effie looked up to the tribunal and saw that most, if not all had leaned forward in their seats curiously.

"Let me rephrase, then. In that 10 years of being involved directly with the Games, do you agree with President Snow's policy that the Games was meant to align the Districts together with the Capitol?"

"No."

"Can you explain?"

And Effie did as she was told. For fifteen minutes, she had the attention of everyone in the room as she related her experience as an Escort. The first time she lost her tributes, the first hand effect she saw the Games had on a Victor – she looked at Haymitch apologetically and he nodded once to acknowledge her silent plea – the helplessness she felt when she could not get anyone to sponsor any of the tributes and knowing that each year more children would die. She related to them the guilt she felt each time she returned to Twelve with Haymitch bringing two corpses with them and the anger from the parents directed at her made her feel as though she was the personification of evil itself.

That was the first time Effie told anyone any of her personal misgivings and experiences regarding the Games and that day, for the first time in open court, she spoke the truth. Haymitch was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face as though he was only seeing her for the first time. Peeta wore a sympathetic look and Katniss had strangely found the patterns on the floor fascinating.

"With this realisation, with this knowledge that the Games were brutal and not at all the glitz and glamour we were led to believe, what did you do Ms Trinket?"

"What could I do? Everyone thought that life in the Capitol was easy. Perhaps it was because we never had to starve and we never had to give up our children each year to fight to their death but we were as equally oppressed. There was no freedom of speech. I couldn't speak out or share my thoughts with anyone. I could be killed if the wrong person heard it," she whispered.

"Haymitch taught me that the Penthouse could be bugged, and I was wary of it. I watched everything I said and tried to be the perfect citizen that was expected of me. I couldn't quit my job because …"

Effie paused. Her hands were clasped tightly on her laps to prevent them from shaking.

"If I quit, they would get someone else to replace me and I thought… It's better for me to continue my job then have someone else who doesn't even care about the children replace my position."

Plutarch paced the length of the Court room with a finger tracing his upper lip. He then came to a stop before Effie and rested his hand on his hip.

"I have records that you played a role in the Rebellion. What made you decide to help the cause?"

"I wanted the Games to end. I wanted a world where children would be able to grow up without the fear of death shadowing them."

"Tell me about your role in the Rebellion," Plutarch asked.

"I – I didn't have such a prominent role in it. I tried to help as best as I could. During the Third Quarter Quell, Haymitch was constantly missing. I had no idea where he went most of the time and I was not privy to much information. I did what I could. I tried to cover his disappearances so that it wouldn't look too suspicious to the officials. When he asked that I arranged for sponsors to be given to Katniss and Peeta and their alliances, I did as I was told."

"You said you were not privy to certain information. Did Mr. Abernathy not trust you enough with this information?"

Effie shook her head almost a too violently. "No. It wasn't that. I kept asking him what he was up to but he refused to tell me. He told me sufficient information to ensure that I could play it up for the cameras and the sponsors. He told me about the Rebellion that broke out in the different districts before the Third Quarter Quell but other than that, he kept most of the Rebellion plans to himself. He said it was to keep me safe. I would be in a better position if I don't know too much. I wasn't sure what he meant until –"

"Until?"

"Until that night before they broke out of the arena and he told me about District Thirteen and I understood why he had to keep it a secret. I was taken prisoner not long after. Haymitch was wrong. Even if I didn't know everything, I was still tortured for information I scarcely even had. I knew about District Thirteen by then, but I wasn't about to tell them that."

Plutarch made her describe the events that transpired while she was a prisoner and Effie did so haltingly, choosing to leave out any gruesome details that would evoke any painful memories. Sensing her discomfort, and due to the late hour, Plutarch asked the Court for recess until the next day.

XxX

"Effie, can I be frank with you?" Plutarch asked as he escorted Effie back to her prison cell.

"What is it?"

"The way I see it, you will be made to recount the horrors you went through. I cannot make the tribunal understand that you helped the Rebellion and paid the price without touching on the subject of your torture. I think – I think it would lead back to the same if you testify against Fox and accept that plea bargain."

Effie kept quiet and mulled his words over.

"I understand, Plutarch. But I don't have to face Fox at my own trial."

"Haymitch wants me to tell you that if you refused to testify against Fox, you're letting him win again. You will be given a longer sentence simply because you were too afraid to face him. Haymitch wants you to consider if Fox is worth wasting your life away."

It sounded like blackmail but Effie knew it wasn't true. Haymitch was simply being himself. He was a strategist and a brutally honest man at the same time.

XxX

She spent the entire night tossing and turning on the sorry excuse of a bed and when the morning light began to filter into the cell, Effie had already made up her mind.

"Plutarch, I will testify against Fox. But I will not accept that plea bargain."

Plutarch Heavensbee tripped over his own feet and only managed to steady himself with the help of one of the accompanying guards.

"Why?"

"Because … I don't want the society to think I took the easy way out. If they found me guilty and they sentenced me, it was nothing more than I deserved. But if I'm going to be spending my life in a jail, then so will Adrian Fox."

Plutarch cupped her cheeks in both hands and told her, "You are an honourable person, Effie Trinket." He kissed her forehead and left her alone explaining that he needed to speak to the Prosecutor and to Haymitch.

Effie sat alone at the holding room waiting for Plutarch to come back and when he did, he brought Haymitch with him.

"Can you give us a moment?" Haymitch asked and Plutarch left after telling him not to take too long.

Effie stood up and tilted her head to look at Haymitch. His grey eyes looked worried and proud at the same time. His hands were rubbing her arms, the repetitive motions was strangely comforting to Effie.

"Are you sure, Eff?"

Effie gave him a reassuring smile and nodded her head.

"You're so very brave and I never – What you told the Court yesterday, I never knew any of it. I never thought you realised how terrible the Games were until recently."

"There are many things you don't know about me, Haymitch. But, may be in the future when … after I'm …" Effie choked and trailed off unable to continue.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Will you be there, Haymitch? When they give me my sentence and when I have to testify against him, will you be there?"

"I will, of course, I will."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Effie moved closer to give him a hug but Haymitch had tilted her chin up and kissed her softly on her lips. Haymitch seldom initiate any contact between them but perhaps it was the possibility that this was one of the rare moments they had together - none of them knew if they would ever have the chance again with the threat of her impending sentence so close by - that made him acted that way.

She gripped his arms and anchored herself to him. Effie tried to memorise the taste of him, the way his tongue traced hers, the softness of his lips and the sound of his soft sigh which he tried hard to contain. They parted for air and his thumb traced smooth circles over cheekbones.

"Stay alive," he told her, smiling crookedly before he left the room without a second glance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading !


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

In the confines of her small prison cell, Effie had run through every possible scenario and sentence that could be meted out to her. Logically, the most possible sentence would of course be a permutation of any duration of imprisonment, leaving her trying to figure out the likely duration of her jail time. The other option that she had considered and promptly dismissed was the likelihood of being sentenced to community service. It seemed far too light a sentence for the crimes she was standing trial for.

Plutarch had informed the Court that he no longer needed Effie as a witness, forcing her to spend the remainder of her trial seated in the defendant's gallery. Plutarch subsequently brought in Doctor Hart as an expert witness, the attending doctor who first treated her when she had been brought in to District Thirteen following her rescue.

Doctor Hart had told the Court in detail the condition Effie was in when she had been brought to District Thirteen. Her injuries were listed out and explained in layman terms for the benefit of President Paylor and the seven tribunal members. Medical reports that Doctor Hart had previously written up for President Coin were tendered as evidence and read out to Court.

"Despite my report stating that Effie Trinket still required several weeks to recuperate before she was medically fit to be discharged, President Coin had whisked her away to the Capitol. I was told that Ms. Trinket had a job to do at the Capitol. I was not made aware of the nature of it," the soft spoken doctor reported.

"In your expert opinion, Doctor Hart, has Effie Trinket fully recovered?"

"Physically, yes, I would say she has recovered."

"Physically? Can you explain, Doctor?" Plutarch probed further.

"When she was brought in and as I have mentioned earlier, Ms Trinket was in a bad state. She was in a near fatal condition and I did the best I could to heal her wounds and her broken bones. I am not an expert in the field of psychology but when she regained consciousness, it was clear to anyone that she was traumatised and mentally unstable. Case in point: she has steadfastly refused to sleep without the lights on, a fact I noticed from when I was her attending doctor. I eventually learnt that while being held in prison, she was in perpetual darkness."

Doctor Hart proceeded to inform the Court of an incident when Effie had screamed and lashed out while Doctor Hart was performing her usual rounds at night and how Effie had only calmed down when Haymitch flooded the room with light. It was a strange experience to be sitting alone as they discussed her condition as though she was not present. It was bizarre still because Effie had little recollection of the incident Doctor Hart spoke of.

As the doctor had clearly pointed out, she was not an expert in the field of psychology and therefore, it wasn't a full account of Effie's psychological trauma. However, her physical injuries and the brief explanation of her nightmares provided the Court with a glimpse of how imprisonment and the subsequent torture had affected her.

Satisfied with the testimony, President Paylor, who had earlier on been informed of Effie's decision to testify against Adrian Fox without accepting the plea bargain had directed for the prosecution and the defence counsel to prepare their closing submission.

XxX

The closing submissions made by both parties passed by in a haze. Effie wasn't quite paying attention to them because whatever they were presenting was merely a summary of the trial. Instead, Effie trained her eyes on the floor and tried to clear her thoughts.

She had made a decision and she was going to go through with it. A hushed silence fell on the Court room as one of the members of the tribunal stood up; black robe rustling as he did so. Effie recognised the man; he owned a flower shop before the Capitol fell. She had to pass by his shop each time she made her way to the training centre from her apartment.

He glanced briefly in Effie's direction and straightened the piece of paper in his hands. That piece of paper held Effie's fate and suddenly, it all became much too real for her. Her lungs constricted painfully forcing to take in a deep long breath to get as much air as possible. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat and she ground her teeth together, bracing herself for the outcome.

"The tribunal has heard and considered the evidence brought forth, as well as the testimonies of the witnesses over the course of the past days. We accept the facts laid out before us that Euphemia Trinket has been an Escort for District Twelve and has during her time reaped the names of twenty children."

Effie breathed heavily through her nose and closed her eyes. It did not sound good at all and she was doing all she could not to pass out.

"We have also accepted her testimony of her role in the Rebellion and as minor as it was, she still played a part and rendered her assistance at the risk of her own life. Further, we have sworn testimony in the form of an affidavit affirmed one week before the trial of Ms. Euphemia Trinket from one Mr. Haymitch Abernathy confirming her version of facts."

Her eyes flew open in shock and swivelled her head to where she knew Haymitch was seated. He smiled at her and winked before focusing his attention back to the tribunal. A brief glance at Plutarch confirmed that the man looked rather pleased with himself, not to mention immensely relieved. None of these men had ever told her about Haymitch's affidavit. That the tribunal had said that it was affirmed one week before her trial was surprising to say the least. She hadn't had any contact with Haymitch until after her trial started and she had been too terrified by her situation to consider the possibility that Plutarch and Haymitch must have had a plan the moment she was arrested.

"After due consideration by all members of the tribunal, Euphemia Trinket is hereby sentenced to exile for a period of five years to and within District Thirteen. She is hereby ordered to render her services, expertise and knowledge to the administration of District Thirteen whenever required during the duration of her stay. During that said period, she will not be permitted to enter any other parts of Panem. A violation of that will result in immediate imprisonment. Her case shall be reviewed each year based on her behaviour and conduct and an appropriate assessment shall be passed. Until such a time, her exile is effective as of 0500 hours tomorrow."

 _Exiled?_   _What does it mean? I can live freely as long as I'm District Thirteen?_

She was still glued to her chair when the members of the tribunal rose as one and left the courtroom. She failed to see Plutarch approaching her or how Haymitch was trying to get to her but was held back by the military police and of Peeta who had his arm around Haymitch's mid-section, desperately trying to pull him back into the crowd.

Her surroundings began to sharpen and came into focus when the guards deposited her in the meeting room where she first met Plutarch after she was taken into custody. Plutarch himself was sitting across her, his fingers steepled together as he waited for Effie to settle down.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly when she finally looked up, the confusion written clear on her features.

"I think I am," she replied slowly. "Yes, I'm alright. I just – I wasn't expecting that."

Plutarch nodded in understanding.

"None of us was anticipating the tribunal to sentence you to exile," he admitted and gave a bark of laughter. "It's better than we expected!"

"Exiled," Effie breathe out, testing the word deliberately and carefully on her tongue. "What does it mean, though? I know it means that I'll be sent away and I won't be allowed to come back but, does it mean I can live freely; that is to say, I won't be in a jail cell? I can walk the streets as long as it is within District Thirteen?"

"Yes, it is more or less as you've described it. I had it clarified with President Paylor but you will be further briefed on your living conditions once you are in Thirteen. That would be – " Plutarch rotated his wrist and checked his watch. " – in less than eleven hours. Your sentence is effective at 0500 hours. You'll be flown to Thirteen by midnight tonight."

Effie wrung her hands together and inhaled slowly. "And what about my testimony for Fox's trial?"

"About that..," Plutarch's voice took on a serious note and he leaned forward surreptitiously. "When his trial commences and agreed by you, you will be one of the witnesses. This means that you will be taken back to the Capitol."

Plutarch paused to allow Effie to internalise the information and for any forthcoming questions to come his way. Apart from the slight crease on her eyebrows to show that she was listening, Effie seemed to understand what she was told so far.

"Don't worry, though. Your sentence will still be running concurrently and your time in the Capitol will be included in the five years of exile you were sentenced to. It  _will_  be taken into account."

Effie exhaled the breath she did not realised she had been holding and nodded in relief.

"Anything more you wish to clarify?" Plutarch asked.

"The affidavit; Haymitch's affidavit. When? How – I wasn't informed."

Plutarch laughed delightedly.

"That was brilliant, wasn't it?" his eyes lighted up. "Of course you weren't informed. We weren't even sure it would work in the first place. We were afraid that due to the nature of your relationship with Haymitch, the affidavit would be thrown out because of biasness, whole lot of rubbish but we still have to consider all possibilities."

"Of course," Effie murmured, concurring with Plutarch.

"To be sure, I double checked all records and it showed that neither you nor Haymitch had met with each other since he was ordered to return to Twelve with Katniss. There were no travel documentation to prove otherwise. And because you were not allowed visitors while you were in custody that worked wonderfully in our favour, too. There was no way the both of you could have been accused of corroborating any story, fact or alibi if he only saw you after your trial started. It was his idea to submit the affidavit one week before your trial. Ever the strategist, eh?" Plutarch asked rhetorically.

Effie smiled; her first genuine smile since the whole trial started. "Ever the strategist," she echoed.

They sat in silence for a while unconcerned with the time as there was no time limit on how long Plutarch was allowed to visit her.

"Am I allowed visitors before I leave?" she asked, hoping to see Haymitch one last time.

"No. Only me, I'm afraid," Plutarch replied, dabbing his handkerchief to his forehead.

"Could you… Could you pass a message to Haymitch for me?" she swallowed nervously. "Tell him thank you for all that he's done. Tell him that I am immensely grateful and would forever be in his debt."

Effie paused. There was so much more that she wanted to tell Haymitch but it was not appropriate to convey it through Plutarch, not when it involve matters as complicated as her feelings for him. Besides, she still wasn't sure how  _he_  felt. They shared a few kisses and they had their moments but it wasn't a testament to how he felt and she wasn't naïve enough to assume things as complex as Haymitch's emotions.

"And tell him that I'll miss him and for him to take care of himself. Katniss and Peeta, too, of course," she added.

Plutarch nodded as he listened and motioned for Effie to continue.

"You remember about those children I told you about? Those nine Capitol children whose parents are missing? I've been searching for their parents, hoping to reunite them but… I've never managed to finish my job before all of this happened. So if you could just help me, Plutarch? These children are innocent and if their parents are out there…"

"Of course, I will, Effie. No promises but I will try."

* * *


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Years of seeing videos from the Capitol had given Effie the impression that District Thirteen was a smouldering, barren land and devoid of life. However, with her movements limited to the hospital wing, her last memories of District Thirteen were restricted to the underground and no knowledge of how it actually looked like above ground. But she gleaned enough from Haymitch to know that even while she was recuperating underground in District Thirteen during what seemed like years ago, there was nothing above ground. To prevent from being detected, she was told.

It therefore came as a surprise to her to see the current state of the District, post-Rebellion. As she was escorted out of the hovercraft to begin her five years of exile, she noticed the guard houses and towers on the perimeter of the district. Moving past the security measures that were in place, there were what looked like residential houses set up in a linear pattern.

There was nothing to fear in this new world the rebels had created for Panem and there was no longer any need for District Thirteen to hide underground thus explaining the flurry of activities on the ground. The guard beckoned for her to hurry for she had slowed down considerably as she took in her new living environment. They assigned her to one of the houses – Section 3, No. 23 - and handed the keys to her new living quarters.

"Have a good day, Ms Trinket. If there're any problems, there's a guard house at the end of the street. Please report at 8 am tomorrow for administrative purposes."

The room caught Effie by surprise, in a good way. The exterior of the building had been plain and unassuming and it followed that the interior would reflect what was outside, or so she thought. Effie had expected something akin to a prison cell, though that expectation had worried her slightly. If she was expecting her new home to be that of a prison, what did that say about her mental state? Was she always going to assume that she would be in prison and begin to learn to expect that?

When she stepped into the threshold of the brick house - I really ought to start thinking of this as my home, she thought wryly - she found herself pleased with what she saw. There was a wooden table standing on three legs with two accompanying chairs. Leaning against the white painted wall was a sideboard and on top of it was a small old television, with its two antennas pulled out. Across from it, facing the television was a two-seater sofa.

Effie walked further in and came across the kitchen. It was small; just enough room for her to move about preparing what was needed to be done. There was a stove with several basic cutleries in one of the drawers and a refrigerator, its size adequate enough for her to store her groceries.

That led her to wonder where in District Thirteen was she supposed to stock up to sustain herself. Better ask the guard tomorrow, she made a mental note to herself. Stepping out of her kitchen, she entered what she assumed would be her bedroom and again, she found herself pleasantly surprised.

The bed provided was definitely much better than the one in prison. It was made of cheap polished wood. The mattress on the bed frame was covered with dark red bed sheets. Effie sat on it before lying down, her arms folded on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. It wasn't as luxurious and plush as the one in her apartment but it would have to do. It was comfortable and that was all that mattered.

Stacked in a corner near one of the cupboards, were two plain black suitcases. Eyeing them curiously, she finally convinced herself to get up from the bed to inspect them. Heaving the larger one on her bed, she laughed in relief at what she saw.

Somebody had packed her clothes in it and if she had any money, she would have placed a substantial amount in a bet on one Haymitch Abernathy. None of her clothes were folded. It looked more like someone had hastily stripped her clothes from the hangers and threw them into the suitcase to fit. Effie giggled when she saw that her undergarments and brassiere were included.

"Thank you, you wonderful person," she whispered to herself. Effie knew instinctively that if he was within earshot, he would have cringed at her description of him but he is a nice person, if you knew what to look out for.

Effie dragged the smaller suit case over to the bed and opened it. The difference was startling. The smaller suit case was packed neatly with a few books, toiletries and a stack of envelopes.

The envelopes received her undivided attention. Pulling the strings that bound them together, Effie let it fall carelessly to the ground. She slid the first envelope open and ran her eyes over the letter.

Effie,

I hope all is well with you and that by the time you read this letter, you have managed to somehow settle in. I'm sorry I couldn't help much for your trial but, Effie, Katniss and I really just wanted to say how grateful we are to you. We never knew your role, or how much you helped and I have never given much thought as to why you were in prison with me. I thought if they could execute Portia and my prep team, they weren't above capturing you, either. I never knew you were involved in the Rebellion.

I wish I had done more to help you. Please know that when your terms of exile is over, you are always, always welcome in our home. Katniss isn't talking much, right now - she seems to be fascinated by a photo of you when you were young (she's in your bedroom as she needed rest. I hope you won't mind) - but I know she would welcome you, too. Five years from now, in all honesty, I hope we would all have fared much better.

I have taken the liberty to pack you some books. I noticed how much you read when you were visiting me in the hospital at the Capitol. Haymitch is helping, too. If you consider grumbling under his breath and throwing your clothes into the suit case as packing then yes, Haymitch is packing your clothes.

Be safe. We'll see each other soon.

\- Peeta

Effie wiped away an errant tear, too overwhelmed by her emotions and definitely touched that Peeta had taken the time to write to her. She had been here less than a day but she missed them dearly already. Five years would prove to be difficult and Effie wasn't sure if she could live in isolation away from the people who mattered most.

The next envelope wasn't a letter. It was a drawing of Effie braiding the hair of a girl. It was signed as Alexia. Attached to it was a small note from Isaac telling that everyone at the house missed her and wished her well.

Effie stood and taped the drawing on one of the empty walls in her bedroom. There was another letter left in the pile and even though she did not want to get her hopes up, Effie could not help but wish that the last letter was from Haymitch. It wouldn't even matter how short a letter it was as long as it was written by him, as long as she had some message from him, she would be content.

XxX

Eff,

Don't know what you need, there aren't many things in your wardrobe now; not as much as I used to remember them during the... Well, you know. I tried to fit in as much as possible, if there is something you need and it's not in, well, sweetheart, here's some advice - make do.

They wouldn't let us see you off and Plutarch told me you were flown off at midnight. You'll be alright, you've been through worse, not that you needed reminding.

I'll tell you not to annoy the guards (the military police? What do they call themselves there now?) but that is an exercise in futility - you annoy everyone. Keep your head low & stay out of trouble.

\- H.

How very typical, she rolled her eyes and smiled. He couldn't even sign off a letter properly. She noticed that recently, Haymitch seemed to be generous with his advice where she was concerned.

Effie wasn't planning on attracting unnecessary attention to herself, anyway. Her intention was to serve her time and get out, build her life anew from the shambles that she currently found herself in.

She folded Haymitch's letter with the same gentle care she would have treated her wigs if she was still wearing them and placed it back in the pile with Peeta's letter. Effie felt slightly at ease knowing that Haymitch had thought of her enough to send an accompanying letter with the suitcase he had packed. The knowledge that Peeta and Katniss did not think of her any less and went as far as to welcome her into their home when her exile was over warmed her heart. Well, there's still a long way to go before I cross that bridge.

XxX

At 7.55 am the next morning, Effie could be seen walking along the pathway to the guard house at the end of the street. She climbed up the stairs on the small brick house and smiled nervously at the few guards who were just leaving, having ended their shift for the day.

After introducing herself to the young woman who looked barely eighteen that was sitting behind an old desk masquerading as a receptionist area, Effie was called in into one of the rooms. She barely had time to sit before the door opened behind her and a stocky woman, slightly shorter than Effie in height whilst sporting a pair of black rimmed glasses and a thick blonde hair swept in a ponytail strode in.

She extended her hand to Effie who surreptitiously wiped her slightly sweaty palms on her skirt before shaking the proffered hand.

"Erika Miles, pleasure to meet you," she said cordially.

Effie faltered slightly before she rallied herself, a pleasant smile gracing her lips as she returned the greeting. She had expected a much more hostile reception since she arrived in District Thirteen yesterday, insofar as her reputation as a former escort for District Twelve went, but her morbid expectations had not been met. They were not exactly friendly with her but at least she was treated politely.

If there was one thing Effie excelled in, it was small talk and she could talk small for as long as it took. There was something soothing about being able to talk to another human being, a sort of connection. She had explained to Haymitch once about the connections and while he had thrown her a weird look at the time, Haymitch had surprisingly paid attention and learnt from her. Effie noticed it when he employed the lessons she taught him during one of those rare moments when he had to charm sponsors.

In a strange, foreign land where she knew no one as of yet, Effie was almost desperate to make acquaintances. She could start with some small talk. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with an appropriate topic of conversation but was quick to find out that Erika Miles was not the sort for idle small chat, preferring to delve straight into the subject matter.

She went over to the cabinet behind her and returned with a black electronic band. She slid it across the desk towards Effie who stared at it blankly.

"Tracking anklet," came the clarification. "It's a requirement, I'm afraid."

Effie tilted her head, slowly reaching out for the aforementioned anklet.

"You're given the freedom to go where you please here in District Thirteen, and you are also allowed to live your life with as much control as possible. You are not in prison nor are you a caged animal. But with those little freedoms that President Paylor has given to those here in Thirteen, we still have to take certain precautions. We need to know that you are still in and within this district and have not escaped across the borders of District 13, thereby breaching the terms of your exile."

"I understand," Effie murmured, resigned.

With her consent, after signing certain forms to affirm that she had been given a proper explanation and had understood the terms involving her stay in Thirteen and by extension the tracking anklet as well as the legal ramifications, the device was fastened on her right leg.

"Alright?" Erika Miles asked.

Effie nodded and leaned back on the chair, awaiting further instructions.

"I have your records with me from when you were in…," the woman checked her notes and looked up, "school and I note that you've excelled in management and business administration."

"Yes," Effie confirmed. If she had not been accepted into Games school, Effie would have embarked on a path that involved events management or gone into business as an entrepreneur, which was in her honest opinion, rather boring.

"You understand that you are required to render your expertise and assist us when needed, yes? There're some loads of administrative paperwork that you could help us with and with the many trials commencing soon, there will be more to come. Would you like to accept that or do you want me to look for another alternative?"

She was being given a choice, she realised. That was unexpected and caught her off guard momentarily.

"I'll… I'll take the paperwork, if you don't mind," she answered. Effie wasn't certain what else District Thirteen had to offer. Last she heard, they specialised in graphite mining though she was sure that since the Rebellion, most of the Districts' financial lifelines were in the process of being revamped.

XxX

Her life quickly fell into a pattern she was comfortable with. Each week, supplies entered District Thirteen and with the coins she received from assisting Erika Miles in her section office, she bought what she needed and learnt to save the rest.

It wasn't a salary per se, insofar as it was an allowance that was given to her by the administration. She would make her way each morning to the guard house and in a small secluded room, she would deal with whatever paperwork that was given to her. There wasn't much to do but it occupied her time and she hoped it would make the years pass by slightly faster.

There were citizens-in-exile here in Thirteen filing for certain requests, most of which dealt with asking for permission to have an extended visitation period from family members. Most of these types of request were denied unless there was a compelling reason behind it. There were also requests from beyond the boundaries of District Thirteen that came into her office, friends of those currently in exile, seeking permission to visit. These requests were promptly denied. Only immediate family members were granted such rights and when Effie learnt of this rule, she had been terribly disheartened. There was no way in which Haymitch or Peeta or even Katniss would be allowed to visit her.

Aside from those, interesting requests were being filed occasionally in the office. Effie encountered one asking for fabric to be shipped in, receiving approval from the higher authorities, much to her surprise. That was how a small clothing store was set up at the corner of Section 4 and Effie used the coins from her allowance to purchase new clothes for herself.

Effie also had to handle the files for the newly-exiled persons coming through the system and assign proper living quarters before they arrived. She never had to meet them, merely passing slips of official paper with the section and house number to the guards for them to escort the person to. Erika called them 'newbies' which was in all a childish term and reminded her too much of a school environment.

"A fresh newbie for you, Effie," Erika poked her head in and threw a file on her desk. Effie shook her head at Erika's choice of words.

"Fresh newbie? Isn't there a better term?" Effie asked.

"Nope," came Erika's laconic reply. Over the weeks, Effie learnt that Erika was from District Eight and had volunteered her services post-rebellion. She was assigned to District Thirteen and was one of the first few to arrive when Paylor's administration began turning the district into a place for exiled citizens of Panem.

Effie briefly considered putting off the file until the next day seeing as how it was already evening and despite the new environment that reminded her nothing of her incarceration under President Snow, she still had qualms about walking in the dark. But Effie loathed procrastination and with a sigh, she pulled the file closer and flipped it open, intending to start working on it.

She bit down on her inner cheek and stared at the page. Her brows crinkled in disbelief. She knew the name and when she double checked the picture that was in the file, she exhaled slowly in recognition.

Fabius Crane.


	36. Chapter 36

  **Chapter 36**

Effie rapped her knuckles against the door and waited. A few minutes passed and she began rocking on the balls of her feet as she waited nervously. Effie tried peering into the gaps of the curtains but the house was dark and she couldn't make out any movements.

She strained her hearing to catch a voice saying "I'm coming," or a shuffling of feet but the house was eerily quiet. Just as she was about to leave, resolving to come back another day, someone came from around the house, slightly out of breath and spoke to her.

"Can I help you, miss?"

Effie stopped in the middle of the pathway, turned around at the familiar sound of the voice and met the surprised expression of Fabius Crane.

"Little Effie?"

She cringed at the name. It had been so long, what seemed like a lifetime ago since Fabius had addressed her as such. She had since grown, learnt and experienced so much of life that the simple endearment sounded like an insult to her.

"Just Effie," she answered, walking slowly up to him.

He nodded and gestured towards the house. "Please, please come in. I was just at the back, clearing some… Well, do come in."

His house was stuffy; the dust raised and swirled in the air the moment Effie sat on the sofa by the window. It was with a great degree of self-control that Effie managed to resist the urge to open the windows and curtains to allow some fresh air in. Lucky for her, those raised in the Capitol had been taught to always ensure that their guests were comfortable and treated with the highest hospitality, and it was with those manners ingrained in him that Fabius shuffled to the window. His movements were slow and heavy and Effie wondered briefly what had happened to him. Fabius pushed the window open, allowing just enough light from the afternoon sun to shine through.

He excused himself to the kitchen, coming out moments later with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

"How have you been?" Effie asked once he had stopped fussing over the tea.

"Good," he replied with a gentle smile. "Better than I have been all these while."

Effie tilted her head and mulled over his words, trying to understand what he meant. Fabius leaned forward and took a biscuit off the plate, nibbling on it before he spoke.

"Free for the first time in years."

"We're in exile," Effie pointed out and nearly slapped herself for being rude.

"Still, free. Not in all sense of the word, of course. But I was taken from my family, Effie. Forced to work for Snow, to experiment on humans and fed lies about my family's well-being whenever I dared to ask after them. I couldn't even go to Seneca's funeral, did you know? They showed me pictures of his body, those despicable creatures, to remind me of what would happen if I dare to disobey them." He gave a bitter laugh. Effie detected a flutter of sadness in his voice at the fate of his only grandson.

"There was no funeral," she informed him quietly. She would have known if there was one but his death had been kept a secret and she wouldn't have known if Haymitch had not told her.

"Ahh, another lie then," he said, leaning back against the chair. Waving his hands, he continued, clearly trying to steer the subject away from his grandson even though he was the one who brought Seneca up. "When your friends took me to Thirteen, I was imprisoned. I was brought back to the Capitol to stand trial when Snow fell. They found me guilty, of course, but took into account that I had been kidnapped, forced and threatened to commit the crimes against my will. I escaped the firing squad and was sentenced to prison."

He paused and Effie frowned. She didn't push him. If she knew Fabius Crane as well as she thought she did, he would continue his narrative at his own pace. He poured more tea for her which by now had gone rather cold.

"Well, as you can see for yourself, my sweet girl, I'm an old man. The new president of Panem - she is just and fair, from what I can see. She asked the tribunal to take my age into account and I was deemed unsuitable for prison condition and sent here instead."

He trailed off and his eyes glazed over, as though recalling the memory of his trial. Effie waited and after a while, he seemed to snap out of his trance.

"More biscuits?" he asked, pushing the plate towards Effie.

"No, thank you."

They lapsed into silence. Fabius stared out of the small opening in the window and watched the people walking up and down the pathway. Occasionally, he would point out certain individuals he knew from memory that were there with them in District Thirteen.

Effie observed him silently. His eyes were still yellow from the enhancement, his skin taut from whatever surgery or chemicals he had injected into himself while he was younger, all in the name of vanity. His hair was white and the more she studied him, the stronger was Effie's belief. It was true what he had told her. He seemed to prefer it here in District Thirteen. He looked calm and serene.

"I'm… I'm glad you're here," she spoke cautiously. Part of her was glad for his presence, but another side of her had not forgotten what he had done to her. Even if he had been under orders, she still had not fully forgiven him, yet.  _It was beyond his control and he gave you food. Or have you forgotten?_  "Instead of prison, I mean. You're the only one I know who's here and…It's good to meet someone familiar."

He turned to look at her, an amused smile playing on his lips. Effie saw traces of the man she knew, and had come to love like her own grandfather. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. At all."

"Sorry? What do you…" Realisation sank in and she raised both eyebrows in surprise. "You're exiled for life?"

XxX

Effie had grown rather adept at making simple meals since she arrived at District Thirteen. Food had never been a problem for her before the Third Quarter Quell. Her salary as an escort meant that she could afford to always eat out and when the Games were in session, food was provided as part of the job. But now she had to cook or she would starve. Julianne had taught her some new recipes while she was helping out with the children and she put what she had learnt to good use.

Fabius was sitting on the steps outside his house, watching something in the distance. Effie handed him a plate of sandwiches she had just prepared and settled down beside him.

"Thank you," he murmured and took a bite. "How are your memories, Effie?"

She chewed thoughtfully and balanced the plate on her knees. "Intact, I should hope so. They came back, trickled in by bits and pieces. I could remember most of them and Haymitch – you remember him, don't you?"

Fabius nodded.

"He helped me a lot. But, it's different now that he's not here. When I remember something about him or Katniss, I can't clarify or validate them with him. He…he used to paint a clearer pictures of my memories; he'd tell me what happened before the memory took place and what happened after. His help was invaluable."

Effie glanced down when she felt Fabius's fingers close around her hand. When she looked up, his eyes were watering and his lips trembled as he tried to hold himself together.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Effie," he managed to choke out. Fabius pressed the tips of his fingers to his eyes, his head bent low. Effie watched helplessly, a stunned expression settling over her as his shoulders shook.

She moved closer to him, and when she felt his arm around her shoulder, she leaned against the old man who was overcome with grief.

"It's okay, Fabius. You had no choice. It's okay, please. I forgive you. I'm alright, I'm okay."

And she meant it. For the past couple of days, as she lay awake at night, she had thought about what the venom had done to her, thought about Fabius and the pain he had to inflict on her and to many others. Effie remembered the last time she saw him at the hospital here in District Thirteen. Fabius had begged for her forgiveness but she had been too angry and too shocked by the information that she had turned her back on him. She couldn't reconcile the image of the loving man with the one who had created the venom that wreaked havoc on her memories.  _He didn't release the venom in my veins, it wasn't him. Adrian Fox did that and he did so gladly._

Effie had given it a long hard thought and she forgave him because truly, how different was his role from hers? He was forced into those experimentations while she picked children to die. They were both paying for their crimes, making it pointless for her to hold on to grudges of a past era. He was the only familiar face in District Thirteen and she had come around often enough to notice that Fabius was as alone as her. While she made an effort to be friendly and make acquaintances, Fabius, on the other hand never left his house. He had a bad knee due to arthritis, as Effie was informed one evening and he wasn't keen on venturing out to meet other people.

He kissed the top of her head and Effie heard him mumbling another apology. They stayed that way for the rest of the evening, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder and her head tucked under his chin. Effie blinked away the tears. She missed her family, for the first time in years, she missed them very much. She yearned for her parents and her grandfather.  _You have Fabius now,_  she reminded herself and he was as close a family she would have.

"You could write him, couldn't you?"

Effie looked up questioningly at the random question.

"The boy you're in love with – Haymitch, was it?"

Effie turned scarlet. "No – no, it's not like that…He's…My colleague, my friend. He doesn't … It's not like that, Fabius."

His yellow eyes twinkled in amusement and Fabius chuckled. "Then there wouldn't be the need for such zealous denial. Write to your  _friend_  then, whenever a memory crops up. It wouldn't be much different from how he has been helping you all these while."

"I – Yes, I think I'll do that. It's never crossed my mind before," Effie admitted.

XxX

When Effie returned home that evening, there was a letter with an official seal at the back of the envelope. She slid it open and took out the letter as she walked into her house, the same seal could be seen as a watermark covering the entire length of the letter. Effie collapsed heavily on the sofa, staring at the sheet of paper in her hand.

The room began to spin and she clutched the letter so tightly it ripped into two. Effie let the papers fall to the floor, crossed the room to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. She propped her hand on her hips and leaned against the kitchen counter, gulping large amounts of the cooling drink.

She wondered if she could drown drinking tap water while hyperventilating because then,\ her nightmares would end.

How long had she been serving her exile? Weeks? Months? The calendar hanging on her kitchen wall told her it had been barely one and a half months and already she had been served with a subpoena calling her to testify against the one man she loathed.

She knew the day would come but she had lived with the idea of testifying against Fox and it seemed so distant that Effie managed to shove it aside while she settled down in District Thirteen. But, with that subpoena which she had accidentally ripped into two, it was as real as ever and it frightened her.

It was her fault, none but her own. Plutarch had written to her a week ago to inform her that his trial had commenced and that there were other witnesses before her. That letter had meant to prepare her but she had been so occupied with the presence of Fabius and her new job, and that the importance of the letter had taken a back seat.

There had been a deal and she had not taken it. Instead, in a moment fuelled by the need to do right, Effie had agreed to testify against Adrian Fox and she would honor that promise no matter how shaken she was.

There was no escaping it. Effie Trinket would be returning to the Capitol in a week's time.

 


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

The tracking anklet seemed to dig into her skin although Effie knew it was just her imagination. She had the device on for weeks now and it had never been a problem. Her senses seemed to have heightened in her distressed state, making her deeply aware of the minute sensations her body was experiencing.

Effie breathed deeply and managed to calm herself enough to make it through the ride from District Thirteen to the Capitol. She had said goodbye to Fabius the day before she knew she was bound to leave.

"You'll be okay, my dear. Be brave. This is your chance to make sure Fox gets what he deserves," Fabius had told her, squeezing her tightly.

As she disembarked from the hovercraft and into the waiting car that would take her to where she would be housed, she noticed the little changes in the Capitol. The streets were clear of debris and slabs of concrete from collapsed buildings. More shops had been opened and life seemed to go on with a facade of normality. If she paid close enough attention, she would have noticed the haunted look of some of the people. It was a period of adjustment - those from the Capitol were still adjusting to the destruction that they had only seen on television but never had to experience until the Rebellion happened while those from the Districts were still trying to get used to the new hard fought freedom.

"You'll be staying here for the duration of your time in the Capitol," a young man in pressed uniform told her, as she was led out of the elevator into one of the rooms.

Effie disappeared into one of the rooms, fully intending to change into something more comfortable and take a nap while she waited for further instructions. She didn't hear the key turned in the lock as the door was pushed open quietly.

"Effie," someone called out as a hand touched her shoulder.

Her reflexes kicked in. She swung the bedside lamp and hit the intruder with all the momentum and power she could muster, blindsiding the man who crumpled on the floor, clutching his temple.

"Haymitch!"

The lamp fell from her hand with a thud as she rushed forward, kneeling in front of him. She took his face in her hands and titled it to the sides, inspecting the damage that she had done.

"I am so sorry!"

He grunted and sat back, leaning heavily against the bed.

"That wasn't the sort of welcome I was expecting. You've got a mean swing, sweetheart," he chuckled, wiping the blood trickling down his cheek.

"If you had knocked like any normal person instead of sneaking in like a thief, this wouldn't have happened," Effie pointed out, as she handed a wet towel to Haymitch.

"What? You blindside me with a lamp and you expect me to clean the cut myself?" He huffed, taking the towel from her. "Manners, Effie."

She dipped her head and tried to hide the smile on her face. Taking back the towel from him, she pressed it softly on the cut and cleaned the blood off his face.

"For the record, I wasn't sneaking in. I have the keys," he said as he dangled it up for her to see.

Effie looked up briefly to the set of keys and knew that Plutarch must have given it to him somehow. She was about to ask him when he arrived at the Capitol but was distracted by the feel of his thumb grazing the scar that ran from her clavicle to her shoulder.

Effie cleared her throat uncomfortably and moved to pull her shirt up to cover the ugly scar but Haymitch's hand was still resting on her shoulder. Her face turned red.

"Are you ashamed of it?" he murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet hers but she wouldn't look at him.

"Yes," Effie whispered, still kneeling in front of him with the wet cloth clutched in her hand. "Of course I am. I have so many of them since the... I'm flawed, I'm scarred for life."

"Of course you're flawed. It just makes you human," he told her.

He gripped her wrist, forcing her to release the towel and brought her hand close to his body. He slipped them under his shirt, coming to a rest on his stomach. Effie felt the uneven skin with her fingertips. A long strip of skin was raised and bumpy from the damaged tissue. Effie trailed her fingers over the length of it gently.

"I have them too. From my Games."

"Are you ashamed of it?" she repeated the question he had asked her earlier.

"No," he answered. The hand resting on her shoulder moved up to her neck, his thumb slowly stroking her throat. "It makes me angry. Each time I see the scar, it makes me want to kill Snow, makes me want to see him die a slow and painful death."

Effie smiled sadly at him, understanding exactly what he meant. She pulled her hand from under his shirt. Haymitch watched as her fingers hovered on the top button on his shirt. Her eyes flickered up to his, silently asking for permission. When he made no move to stop her and continued watching her instead, Effie slowly unbuttoned it, allowing it to fall open.

For the first time, she saw the scar from when the axe had lodged in his stomach so many years ago. The Capitol did a good job fixing it up but even they couldn't completely get rid of one so prominent.

"Surprise, surprise," he said sarcastically. "You're not the only one who's flawed."

Her eyes watered slightly. It must have taken a great deal out of Haymitch for him to willingly show her his Games' souvenir; to have to dredge up the memory by exposing it to her.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but his lips were pressing on hers. Before Effie could fully appreciate what was happening, he pulled back slightly, "Now don't go feeling sorry for me, Effs. I don't need it."

Effie nodded. Slowly, tentatively, she kissed him again. She ran her hands over his chest just as his own wrapped around her, pulling her closer. Due to her position, she fell forward and collapsed on top of him. Haymitch chuckled, pushing her hair over her shoulder.

"Bed," he said. "I'm not that young."

"You're not that old either," she said, helping him to his feet.

"I'm not. But I'm still dashing," he teased before silencing her with a fervent kiss. Haymitch pushed her blouse off her shoulder and turned her around. She had hastily put on the blouse and did not have the time to put on her brassiere when Haymitch had entered the room.

He ran his hand silently over the exposed marred skin on her back from the whipping inflicted by Fox. Effie stiffened, afraid that despite what he said, Haymitch might be revolted by the scars criss-crossing on her back.

His arm snaked around her stomach, pulling her against him. He kissed her neck lazily, moving up to her ear. "If there wasn't a trial, I would have killed him myself for everything that he's done. For what he did to you."

Effie knew who he was referring to and it made her insides turned to mush hearing the anger in his voice, knowing that he was expressing his protectiveness over her. She had seen him being protective over Katniss and Peeta, and now… now she was one of those people too and it touched her.

She turned in his arms and kissed him fiercely, trying to convey how much it meant to hear him say it. Their kiss turned hungry; his hands gripped her waist tightly before Effie bunched a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down on the bed.

"It's okay; he'll get… what he deserves," she said, his hand mapping out her skin under her shirt.

Effie ran her fingers through his hair as he trailed kisses along her jawline, down her throat and he didn't stop. She knotted his hair in her hands when his tongue darted out to lick her belly button.

"Haymitch," she gasped.

Gradually, they managed to relieve each other of their clothes, throwing it on the floor carelessly. Effie couldn't remember the last time she had been with a man, possibly months before the 74th Games. Her life had been a road map of stress and anxiety since they won.

She looked up at Haymitch nervously but whatever worry she had was relegated to the back of her mind when his eyes fluttered shut as he finally entered her. Their fingers intertwined above her head, both of them moving in tandem together. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths coming out in short bursts as he panted heavily. Effie could feel the pressure intensifying, building and coiling inside of her before it burst and she threw her head back. Her body shook and releasing her hands from his grip, she wound her arms tightly around Haymitch's neck, holding on to him.

"I've missed you, Haymitch," she whispered in his ear when she felt his muscles tensing before he reached his peak in a shuddering breath.

He nodded, too spent to say anything. Haymitch pushed himself up to his elbow, wiped the hair that had matted to her face and kissed her forehead. He dropped another lingering kiss to the scar on her shoulder, the one that acted as a catalyst.

XxX

Someone was knocking loudly on the door, the sound piercing through the cloudy haze in her sleep. Effie blinked groggily.

"You wanna get that?" Haymitch asked, stroking her arm idly.

Effie looked up to see Haymitch, propped against the head board, an eyebrow raised in question. He had his arm around her, and her own arm was draped across his stomach.

"You let me fall asleep?" she asked.

"You looked like you needed it," he replied and glanced at the clock. "You haven't slept long, not even half an hour."

Effie moved off the bed and began gathering her clothes. The knocking grew louder.

"Just a minute!" she shouted.

Haymitch followed suit and began dressing. "Probably just Plutarch. He meant to check on you and brief you about what's to be expected at the trial tomorrow."

After making sure that they both looked presentable, Effie opened the door. Plutarch Heavensbee eased his way in with the ever present smile on his face. He took one look at the unmade bed and its tangled sheets and gave them a sidelong glance.

Effie blushed furiously, while Haymitch just plopped down on the sofa, his eyes watching Plutarch who was making his way towards Effie.

"Well, Haymitch, don't you have to check up on someone?" Plutarch asked pointedly after he had given Effie a hug.

"What?" Haymitch asked, slightly confused. He crossed and uncrossed his legs and Effie knew him enough to read from his body language that he was embarrassed at the conclusion that Plutarch had undoubtedly formed about them. "Oh, right. Katniss, of course."

He stood up. "I'll leave you two alone to discuss the trial."

He crossed the room to where Effie was sitting and bent low to whisper in her ear.

"I gotta call Katniss at Twelve, make sure she's okay. I'll see you soon."

Haymitch straightened up,nodded curtly at Plutarch and left.

He never once tried to coddle and feed her any sort of delusions about the trial and Effie was grateful. She knew it would not be easy. There were demons that she had to face and if Haymitch had at any point tried to make it sound anything but, Effie was certain she would have broken down. Effie didn't think she would be able to face Adrian Fox otherwise.

 


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

"Just to put it out there – you're not a prisoner here," Plutarch told her as he sank on the sofa Haymitch had just vacated. "But you're not allowed to go out of this building unless otherwise escorted because technically you're still serving your exile."

"Alright, I understand," Effie nodded.

"Now that's out of the way, Adrian Fox's garnered the attention of the media more than yours ever did, even at the height of its popularity. It will be a full house tomorrow at the Courtroom. We've managed to keep away from the reporters that you're the next witness but once word gets out that you're taking the stand you'll never know what would happen. You should prepare yourself for the inevitable attention from the media."

She clasped her hands together and waited for Plutarch to continue.

"I've already spoken to the prosecutor who will be meeting you tomorrow before you take the stand and her questions will be limited to the time you were incarcerated; the treatment you received, the brutality and questions about other prisoners, if it comes to that. You're following me so far?"

"Yes."

"Good. Just…Just tell the truth. If it gets too difficult or too much and you need a moment to yourself, just say so and we'll see what can be done. It's the defense that we're worried about. We're not sure what sort of questions they will be asking but they can't go beyond your incarceration, I'm sure."

XxX

Night had fallen by the time Plutarch finished explaining to her everything that he could about the trial. At some point during their discussion, someone had come up to their room and delivered dinner.

Now that Effie was once again left alone, and with nowhere to go, she became restless. At least in District Thirteen she was allowed to move about within the confines of the district. Her mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts about the trial. Once in a while, it would wander off to Haymitch and the step they had taken in their odd, unexplainable relationship but it was difficult to give him much thought when Adrian Fox was at the forefront of her mind.

Opening the window to her room, Effie rested her hand on the ledge and peered out, watching the streets below her in an attempt to clear her thoughts. She wanted nothing more than to venture out on the streets and soak in the atmosphere. Effie missed walking the streets of the Capitol. No matter what had happened, the Capitol was all that she knew. She was born and raised here, and now that there was a new President, she was sure the Capitol would be different and she would not be there to witness the changes.

A knock jolted Effie out of her musings. She opened the door to see Haymitch standing there with his fist raised, about to give the door another knock.

"I knocked this time," he grinned.

Effie stepped back and allowed him to enter. "How's Katniss? You said you were going to call her?"

"The girl's fine. Peeta's got her and Greasy Sae's helping out, too."

"Greasy who?"

"Never mind, just someone we know from home," he told her. Haymitch went over to the window and peered out on the streets, unknowingly mimicking her actions previously.

"I've missed it. I've missed the Capitol," she told him softly, as she came to stand beside him.

"What's District Thirteen like nowadays?"

"It's better. You can see some sort of settlement emerging. I've got a job there, you know. I help with the administrative procedure, mainly just paperwork."

"Yeah? Sounds fun," he said, though his voice betrayed his unspoken belief that it was anything but.

"Fabius Crane is there, too. You remember him? You brought him back to District Thirteen when you rescued me from the Capitol. Seneca's grandfather," Effie said, trying to jog his memory.

"Oh, yeah, that old man. He's there too? I wasn't really paying attention to his trial. Sort of blocked out everything else after yours ended and I returned to Twelve."

Haymitch didn't ask anything else on the subject matter and Effie had the feeling that he wasn't really interested in knowing about Fabius. She didn't know why she even brought Fabius up. Perhaps it was because both men mattered to her and she just wanted to share something important with Haymitch.

The silence stretched between them until Effie yawned. She tried to cover it up but he noticed it.

"You should probably go to sleep. Long day tomorrow," he said, moving towards the door.

Effie impulsively gripped the sleeve of his shirt before he could move farther away. He looked at her questioningly.

"Uhhh…," she released her grip and stepped back hastily. "Well, Plutarch…He's only mentioned that I'm not allowed to go outside, he's never mentioned anything about…not having visitors staying over," she said slowly.

Haymitch tilted his head and looked at Effie in amusement.

"What are you trying to say, sweetheart?"

"I was just wondering…you know, if you wanted to, of course, you could…stay the night with me?"

Effie held her breath as she waited for his reply. She really wanted him to say yes. Even if they never did talk about what was going on between them, she just wanted his presence. This was one of those rare moments where they could be together and the next time Effie could see him would be when her exile was over. There were still a few years to go.

Haymitch must have been thinking the same thing as he nodded, shrugged off his jacket and stepped out of his boots. He drew the covers back and slid in, patting the space next to him.

"Why are you blushing like a scared virgin? You're the one who asked me to stay," he teased.

"Just a moment," she said before disappearing into the bathroom. While she had been hoping for him to agree, she wasn't really expecting it to happen.

When she reappeared, Effie was dressed in the appropriate nightwear. Haymitch was lying on his stomach, his face turned away from the bathroom. She switched off the lights and climbed into bed. Effie lay on her sides and after a while, she felt Haymitch turn, draping his arm around her midsection. She scooted closer, her back pressed against the length of his body.

"We're just going to sleep, right?" he whispered against her neck.

She nodded, somehow rendered mute by the feel of his warm breath on her skin.

"What a shame."

That got a laugh out of her and as the night grew, her breathing slowly evened out as she fell asleep wrapped in a nightmare about Adrian Fox whilst in Haymitch's arms.

XxX

"Big, big day, Effie. Come on, wake up," he jostled her shoulder.

Effie jerked and sat bolt upright. She rubbed her eyes wearily, and moved off the bed.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked.

"Yeah." He was lying through his teeth and she knew it but didn't bully him into telling her more.

Plutarch came by half an hour later by which time Haymitch had already left her room claiming he didn't need Plutarch to make any more assumptions than he already had.

"If at any point you feel like giving up and that you can't face that monster, think of all the scars on your body. Think of how it got there, and make him pay for it."

That was the last thing he told her before dropping a kiss to the top of her head. He wanted Effie to turn the feeling of embarrassment and channel her anger appropriately, at the person who deserved it.

Plutarch brought her down to the prosecutor's office where a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea was waiting for her. The same woman who was the prosecutor at Effie's trial sat behind the desk. She smiled when Plutarch and Effie entered the office.

The prosecutor explained to her what Plutarch had told her the day before; that the lines of questioning would be heavily centred on the time of her incarceration and the events that occurred during it. Effie nibbled nervously on her sandwich, not really hungry but more of a need to fill her stomach with food than anything else.

Once everything was settled and Effie had conveyed her understanding of the procedure, the prosecutor excused herself to prepare for the trial which was scheduled to start in less than an hour.

Effie was left alone with Plutarch.

"So… You and Haymitch, huh?" he asked, attempting to make small talk. "Not really a surprise. Personally, I thought it was bound to happen."

Effie didn't reply and after a while, the conversation died out. Instead, Plutarch handed her the day's newspaper for her to distract herself and before long, Effie was called out.

It was time.

XxX

It was true what Plutarch said, the Courtroom was filled with people from all different walks of life. There wasn't enough space for everyone to sit, forcing some of them to stand at the back of the room. When her name was called out and as she walked to the witness stand, there was a deafening silence as everyone looked on. Then, as though a dam had broken, the room exploded in loud whispers and chatter.

Effie stuck her chin out and held her head high as some of them pointed and whispered in her direction. Once she was seated, she couldn't help herself as her eyes strayed to where she knew Adrian Fox was sitting.

Their eyes met and his lips curled into a malicious sneer. If it wasn't for the spiteful glint in his eyes or the familiar condescending sneer, Effie wouldn't have recognised the man sitting down with his hand bound to the table in silver cuffs. He had lost a considerable amount of weight and his cheek bones were jutting out, and an unhealthy sheen had taken over his skin.

Effie blinked, breaking the connection and quickly turned away but not before noticing the marks around his neck. It looked like rope burns and Effie wondered if someone had tried to kill him while he was in prison.  _Or maybe he tried to hang himself. He was an egotistical man and he would never humiliate himself by going to trial._

The trial started with the basic standard questions. They asked for her name and her place of residence. Once the formalities were out of the way, the real line of questioning started.

"Ms. Trinket, during the Third Quarter Quell, what happened the night the Victors broke out?"

"I was captured," she answered simply.

"Can you tell the tribunal about the night you were taken? Tell us so that we would understand better," the prosecutor coaxed.

Effie nodded and took a deep breath…

 


	39. Chapter 39

 

Chapter 39

"…and Haymitch had gone ahead up to the roof. I was supposed to meet him there but…I was stopped by three peacekeepers."

"Was Adrian Fox one of them?"

"No, I don't think so. They had their helmet on, covering their faces," Effie explained.

The prosecutor nodded, gesturing for Effie to continue.

"They wanted to take me in for questioning… about rebel activities. I resisted, I told them I was an Escort and I couldn't possibly know anything about what they're asking. I was scared and the only thing I could think of was to get to the rooftop, like Haymitch had told me to. They didn't take it kindly so they knocked me out with the butt of their gun…"

There was a slight pause as Effie took in the sight of the various reporters madly scribbling on their note pad. She hesitated for a split second, acutely aware that it was all going to be public knowledge; every pain, every experience that she went through in her little hell-hole.

She thought about those who died and those who were killed by people like Adrian Fox. She thought of Cinna and Portia, of the screams she heard at night and the pitiful moans of those who wanted their sufferings to end. She had to do this for them, at the very least; she would expose and bare everything if that was what it took for justice to be served.

"I blacked out and I had no idea how long I was unconscious. When I came to, I didn't know where I was. It was dark and wet, and I knew something was wrong because my head hurt so much…"

Her surroundings began to blur and fade out and then coalesce, slowly fading out again before finally taking shape. Effie went on to paint such a vivid picture of her cell, something she never knew she would normally be capable of because she had actively tried to forget the time she spent in the cramped dingy space, with varying degrees of success. She was there now. She was not in the court room anymore.

"Then he came in with two other Peacekeepers," her voice was low but the court room was so quiet that it naturally magnified her voice.

"Miss Trinket, could you please identify the 'he' you just mentioned?"

"Adrian Fox," she did as she was bidden.

"Is he here in this Courtroom? Can you please point him out?"

"Yes," Effie said and raised her hand towards where he was seated. For the second time that day, their eyes met. A muscle in his jaw jumped when Effie pointed straight at him, his eyes hard and cruel.

"Let the record reflect that Miss Trinket has positively identified the Defendant as Adrian Fox," the Prosecutor said. "Go on Miss Trinket."

Effie spoke slowly, telling the Court her first encounter with him. When she got to the part where he had sliced her arm with his switch blade, Effie recalled what Haymitch had said about scars. She pulled her sleeve up and bared her arm for the tribunal to see; a long, white mark marring her skin.

Somewhere in the crowd, Haymitch sat grinding his teeth with his hand clenched into a tight fist. He stared at the back of Adrian Fox's head, silently thinking of all the ways he could work his own trusted knife on that man's flesh.

"He came to my cell every day. He asked about Haymitch and Katniss, about where they were. I told him that I had no idea…it wasn't what he wanted to hear so he would try to force answers out of me, called me names which I don't think bears repeating in civilised circumstances. After a while, days maybe, or weeks, when he realised that I really had no information to offer, I turned into their punching bag."

She looked down and stared at her hand. In her head, she could hear their taunts and laughter, and she could hear herself whimpering and begging for their collective mercies, for the pain to stop. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tried to control the influx of images assaulting her mind, razor-sharp with their clarity.

"Miss Trinket… Effie," the prosecutor called out to her, dropping the formality when she didn't respond. "What happened next, Effie?"

"The...venom," she replied, slowly looking up. "The physical violence wasn't working so… Ahh, there was this room – the walls were painted white and there were chairs and a table. The table had a lot of syringes arranged on it and he would drag me into the room and bind my hands. I don't know why… I was too weak to run away."

Her thoughts derailed and defragmented from all the images flashing in her mind. She latched on quickly to the next line of thought.

"I was so hungry and starving. I never knew hunger, never understood what Haymitch meant to go hungry but I did then. I was given bread but it wasn't something that was edible. It was hard as a rock so…I would soak it in water…."

"Effie - the room? You mentioned a white room," the prompt came and Effie frowned.

"What? Oh, well he would bring me to the room to interrogate me. I felt something prickled my inner elbow… just here," she gestured absent-mindedly. "It made things hazy and unfocused. The questions came one after another, fast and unrelenting. At first I didn't know what was going on but Fox kept asking me about Haymitch and Katniss. It was always them, always their names and it was like something was pushing forward in my mind each time he asked about them. Everything else was blurry except for what I could remember of Haymitch and Katniss."

On the Defendant's table, Adrian Fox shifted in his seat, his chain dangling noisily against each other. Effie paused, distracted by the sound and Plutarch shot him an annoyed look before turning to Effie, nodding encouragingly at her.

"I was terrified. I didn't understand what was happening inside my head. I thought I was going crazy. I didn't know what was influencing it except that I had to stop it. I couldn't let Fox know about District Thirteen or that the rebels had plans to evacuate to Thirteen. I tried to think of something else, anything as long as I wouldn't accidentally blurt out what I knew."

The Prosecutor walked up to Effie and checked the legal pad in her hand. "How often did Adrian Fox bring you to this room?"

"I- I don't know. A few days in a week, at least," she answered truthfully. Effie was hardly in a state to be keeping track of such things when she could hardly tell the time of the day.

"He brought you this room personally?"

Effie shook his head. "No. Why would he? He's got other Peacekeepers under his command; they would bring the prisoners to him."

"So he was in-charge of what went on in the underground prison?"

"Yes," Effie answered.

"That bitch is lying," a cruel voice hissed loudly. "She's lying! She's delusional, what would she know? She doesn't know anything."

Effie was startled by the spite in his voice and unconsciously shrunk back in her seat. The chain that bound Adrian Fox together clanged loudly as he pushed his chair back and attempted to stand. A man sitting beside Fox who Effie assumed must have been his defense lawyer pulled at his elbow, forcing him back down on his seat.

President Paylor frowned at the disruption. "Counsel, control your client or we'll be forced to remove him from his own trial."

Fox sat down forcibly, pulling his arm free from his lawyer's grasp. He stared hard at Effie, nostrils flaring in anger. It was the same way he would look at her when she refused to give him what he needed, the same unyielding furious stare each time Effie withheld information. She closed her eyes desperately, willing herself to focus on her surroundings instead of the nightmares of her past.

"Right then, Effie, let me just clarify something for everyone here. You said Adrian Fox was in-charge?"

"Yes, it seemed like it. He gave instructions and orders to other Peacekeepers, and he received his orders from President Snow. I heard him once screaming at Fabius Crane about giving a report to the president."

"He chose which prisoner to interrogate at a given time?"

"I – Yes. Peeta was in a cell next to me and I could hear whenever someone came for him. I could hear Fox each time he told his subordinates where to bring Peeta for whatever they had in store for him."

"There's something I don't quite understand here, Effie, something that you mentioned earlier just now. If you had no information to offer even while under torture with the experimental venom, why didn't Adrian Fox just kill you?"

If she had not been forewarned that questions like those may come up, Effie would have flinched at such an openly callous question. But she had been told that the prosecution's strategy for the trial was to paint a picture of Adrian Fox as a merciless, ruthless man working under the orders of the late President Snow without question. They had to do this without anyone ever having a shadow of doubt of the kind of person he was.

"I don't know," she answered quietly. "He told me he enjoyed seeing me break, and keeping me alive served that purpose, I think."

"He left you alone in your cell until the rescue party arrived?" the prosecutor questioned further.

Effie shook her head slowly. "No. I became sport for them. They would come at night sometimes, and… They would come with whips and chains. They would cut me - not deep enough to kill but enough to hurt – kick me and beat me up. They do it to others, too. I could hear them screaming."

The pain became too much for Effie to bear as she remembered the tortured voices of others who shared her fate. Their screams echoed in the prison, reverberating off the walls. Each scream was as painful as though she herself was being whipped at that moment, and the helplessness which was paralysing was the worst form of torture. The psychological impact was destructive. The learned helplessness forced many of them to become a shell of their former selves and Effie was no different. She tried to stay low and not attract attention to herself but it was fruitless. They would still come for her and she would bite her tongue as her battered body endured another round of excruciating pain.

The imagery and vivid memories assailed her mercilessly as she sat there for the past hour recounting her horrors. When she felt that it had become too overbearing to hold it together, Effie finally allowed the tears that clung to her eyelashes to fall onto the palm of her hands.

The prosecutor approached the witness stand and spoke softly to Effie. "Are you holding up okay? We can take a break now. I don't have any more questions for you. You've done well. I'll rest and the defense would have their go but we can ask for a break first."

Effie looked up and saw a pair of warm brown eyes looking at her sympathetically. "I'm okay. I just… I don't need a break. I just want to get this over with, please."

XxX

The defense lawyer was a tall man with small green eyes who looked like he would rather be doing something else than defend Adrian Fox. Still, he looked sharp and smart, and when he stood up dusting the non-existent lint off his black suit, Effie eyed him warily.

"How are you today, Miss Trinket?"

Effie blinked at the unexpected question. "I'm fine, thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

She licked her lips, wondering if it was perhaps a trick question. Effie looked briefly at Plutarch who had his chin resting on the palm of his hand, his eyebrows crinkling and realised she would not be getting any hint of what the line of questioning might stand to mean from Plutarch.

"I don't…" Effie trailed off.

"Ahh, let me help you out there a little. Feeling a little nervous, perhaps?"

Effie nodded.

"You got to speak up, Miss Trinket. The Court clerk won't be able to transcribe your words otherwise," he told Effie.

"Yes, nervous."

"Naturally," he smiled at her. "Overwhelmed, too, I suppose? I mean look at the crowd in this courtroom, eh? It'll put anyone on edge!"

He spread his arm and gestured at the direction of the crowd. Effie's eyes followed his movements.

"Overwhelmed, sure," Effie shrugged, uncertain what her feelings had to do with the trial.

"How about anger? Do you feel angry, Miss Trinket? Angry with my client, I should think. I mean if he did all those things to me, I would be too."

"Yes," Effie said through gritted teeth.

"Would you agree with me if I said that emotions cloud judgments?" he asked, sliding a hand casually into the pocket of his pants.

Effie told him that sometimes they did and he seemed satisfied enough with her answer that he quickly jumped on to the next question.

"Are you aware of your surroundings? What's going on in this Courtroom?"

"What do you mean? Yes, of course I am aware," she told him, confused.

"Oh, are you aware how many reporters are present here? Or that out of the nine tribunal members for this trial, five of them are female? Or that the walls of this Courtroom are a dirty white? Or that there are two military police stationed at every entrance to this Courtroom? Are you aware of these facts?"

Effie's head swivelled around as he pointed out the bunch of reporters sitting close together, the tribunal members on the raised platform, the walls and her eyes scanned for the military police that he mentioned.

"No," she answered truthfully. Her face flushed with embarrassment, an emotion Effie was aware was unwarranted given the circumstances. Effie was certain that she was not the only one who was unaware of all those little facts. Adrian Fox himself looked slightly confused.

"Earlier, when I asked, you agreed you felt overwhelmed," he reminded. "So, it is not wrong for me to say that while you were being held captive, you were overwhelmed, too. I mean new surroundings, unfamiliar faces, and unfamiliar territory, right? You had no idea where you were or what was happening. You, Miss Trinket, were overwhelmed by all these just like how you're overwhelmed just by being here."

"Is there a point here?" the prosecutor asked, clearly annoyed.

"I'm glad you asked, Madam Prosecutor. The point here is that Effie Trinket had no idea what was going on while she was being held captive. Just as I demonstrated – she had no idea of the things that are present right in front of her at this moment."

Effie looked affronted.  _How dare he!_

"She didn't seem too aware that our honourable tribunal members consisted of five females, so how are we to believe her accounts that my client? He who held such a prestigious rank so much so that he was in-charge of the underground prison? A prison that was sanctioned by President Snow and not my client, I might add."

"He was the head of the peacekeeping force in the Capitol!" Effie cried indignantly.

"Oh, your memory seemed to be working. I had thought it was faulty from the venom," he muttered sarcastically. It was loud enough for those in the front row to hear.

"You agreed earlier on my point that emotions cloud judgments. You admitted that you're angry with my client. So, I put it to you that because of your anger, you are accusing an innocent man of war crimes, of torturing others."

"Yes – No! I mean, no. He isn't innocent!"

"Well that is not up to you to decide is it?" he said, his lips curling into a sneer. He made the mistake of looking at Effie and she caught the misgiving in his eyes, the slight grimace and the way he quickly turned to look away.

 _He didn't want to do this_ , she thought. Everyone was allowed to a fair trial and Adrian Fox must have been assigned a representative.

The young man picked up his note pad and studied it. Effie grew increasingly restless and cagey, wary of the sort of questions that would follow.

"Let me quote what you told the prosecutor –  _I didn't understand what was happening inside my head._  If you didn't know what was going on inside your own head, how are we supposed to trust you when you said my client was the one in control and in command of the prison? How are we supposed to know for certain that you knew and understood what was going on when you heard my client talking to Fabius Crane or commanding other peacekeepers?"

Effie grappled for words, a way to explain everything. She knew what she heard was true, and she knew where Adrian Fox stood in the hierarchy. It was pointless to try and deny that Adrian Fox was a peacekeeper. It was also pointless to deny that he was in fact present at the prison all those time or that he had a hand in the interrogation and physical abuse of the prisoners. It served no purpose to try and deny it all so the defense's best strategy was to try and play down his role.

Effie opened her mouth to defend her own credibility but she was beaten to it.

"The witness was too distraught by what had happened to her and too driven by her emotions to fully understand and give an account of my client's role as a Peacekeeper during the reign of President Snow. There are no further questions."

XxX

Plutarch guided Effie by her elbow, out of the Courtroom. Two military policemen flanked them on each side, parting the crowd and preventing any reporters from coming near them. They tried of course. Effie had a tape recorder shoved in her face, the questions swallowed by the noise the crowd was making.

Effie breathed easily once they had entered the corridor inaccessible to the public and she saw Haymitch talking quietly to President Paylor who gave Effie an encouraging smile. She departed with Plutarch on her heels but not before Effie saw him slide a chain of keys onto Haymitch's palm.

"Come along," he said. "I'm supposed to bring you back to your room. You should be in time for dinner."

"So… You're my escort now, huh?" she teased and tried to smile.

Haymitch looked down at her. The corner of his lips curled upwards slightly as he rolled his eyes, his hands on the small of her back.

Once they reached her room, Effie excused herself and disappeared into the bathroom. She locked herself inside long enough to send Haymitch knocking on the door after a while.

"Are you alright in there?"

Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she took a deep shuddering breath as she held on to the edge of the sink.

"I'm fine," she answered weakly.

She turned on the tap with shaky hands, and splashed her face with the cooling fresh water. Effie stared at her reflection in the mirror.  _It's over. It's all over. Now go out, spend what little time you have left with Haymitch, serve your exile and then… then your life will be yours._

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Haymitch was sitting at the edge of her bed, his hands resting on his knees. The usual bottle of alcohol was dangling in one hand. He looked up when he heard the door creaked open and he approached Effie slowly.

"Alright?" he asked, coming to a stop an arm's length away from her.

Effie nodded and moved into his arms that came up automatically to envelope her.

"You did well, Eff. I – I'm proud of you," he told her quietly, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Her eyes fluttered shut as they stood there in each other's embrace. It was all she had ever wanted to hear, for someone to tell her that they were proud of her. She never did receive it from her parents and while under interrogation during her incarceration, she had always wondered if Haymitch would be proud of her, proud of the fact that she fought to keep their secrets. She had her answer now, and she would take it, carry his words with her back to District Thirteen.

 


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

The neighbourhood was quiet and the car Effie was in met no traffic as it slowly drove down the street. It was the time of the day where most people who had managed to find employment had gone off to work and the others were either still in bed or in their houses. Effie gazed out of the window, recalling the many times she had walked down those streets before her trial.

Nobody spoke in the car. Haymitch had somehow nodded off to sleep during the journey and Plutarch was staring intently at the newspaper in his hand. The front page depicted a large picture of Effie with her head bent low as she was escorted out of the Courtroom the day before. Effie had not read the paper but Haymitch had, and since he had made no comments whatsoever, Effie took her cue from him - there was nothing terrible in it to incur his temper nor was there anything good worth mentioning.

Beside her, Haymitch's body jerked. His eyes flew open as though somebody had startled him. Plutarch peered over the top of his papers and noting that nothing was amiss, went back to whatever news had captured his attention. Effie tore her eyes away from the scenery outside and turned towards Haymitch, her brows crinkling slightly.

"Dreams," he mumbled, wiping his face.

Effie gave his hand a gentle squeeze. If Plutarch noticed their clasped hands resting in the space between them, he chose not to comment on it.

"We're nearly there. The house is just around the corner," she told him.

When they finally reached their destination, Effie couldn't help smiling despite the slight nervousness she felt at meeting them all again. Haymitch squinted against the glare of the sun and pushed the gate of the blue picket fence aside, allowing the trio to enter.

"Effie?" Julianne asked in disbelief. "Oh, it's really you! Neil!"

She enveloped Effie in a hug, squeezing her so tightly that Effie had the impression that her ribs might have cracked under the pressure.

"Neil, you won't believe who's here," Julianne said, as she led Effie into the house.

Plutarch and Haymitch exchanged looks with one and another before Haymitch shrugged and followed both women in. Effie was in the arms of an older man and Haymitch hovered in the doorway of the kitchen, feeling slightly out of place.

When she finally noticed their presence, Effie turned towards them and gestured for Haymitch to come closer.

"Neil, Julianne, this is Haymitch," she said. "Haymitch, these are the people I've told you about."

Neil and Julianne already knew Plutarch who had dropped by on a few occasions at Effie's behest before she went to District Thirteen.

"It's so quiet. Where are the children?"

"They're still asleep. It's only 8 in the morning," Julianne informed her.

"Oh," Effie's face fell. "I was hoping to see them before I return back to District Thirteen. Plutarch here had agreed to accompany me, I need an escort to… well, you know."

"They should be awake soon. Why don't you sit down? Julianne could prepare breakfast for everyone and we can catch up while waiting for the children," Neil suggested.

"Oh, we can't," Effie say, glancing back at Plutarch who gave Neil and Julianne a charming smile. "We can't stay long, I'm actually on my way to the airfield and Plutarch agreed to stop by as a favour to me. Maybe… Is it okay if I just pop in and see them? Just for a bit."

"Of course, Effie."

XxX

Julianne pushed open the first door and stood back. Effie peered in, slowly moving into the girls' room. There were four beds in the room and only two were occupied. Her eyes searched for the sleeping form of Alexia but she wasn't occupying any of the beds.

"Where are the other two girls? Where's Al?" Effie asked softly, brushing the dark curls of an eight years old girl.

"They're gone. Alexia's mother was still alive, and she saw your posters when she visited one of the centres looking for her daughter. It led her here. Alexia's with her mum now. Plutarch managed to locate Mary's older brother and he took her back."

"Really?" Effie asked in disbelief. Her eyes were brimming with tears at such unexpected joyful news. The fact that she couldn't see Alexia one last time wound her slightly but Effie was happy for her. "I'm glad those posters helped. I–I'm just so very happy for them."

Effie dropped a kiss to both girls' forehead and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

The boys' room were a complete mess. Julianne sighed and grumbled under her breath about how they never bothered to clean their rooms.

"They kept saying the Avoxes would clean it and I kept telling them there were no Avoxes in this household that would clean up after their mess. You remember the fuss they kicked up each time we tried to make them clean their rooms, don't you?"

Effie chuckled at the memory. "It's not something I would likely forget. I remember Isaac running off to hide somewhere until it was time for dinner."

Isaac's blue hair was the first thing she saw when she entered. The colour had faded after months of not applying new hair dye to maintain the electric blue it once was but the blue of his hair was still attention-grabbing when the sun shone on it through the curtain gaps.

Effie brushed his hair back from his forehead and he stirred.

"Hey," Effie said softly, crouching down beside his bed.

His eyes cracked open and he blinked multiple times before focusing on her. "Effie?"

"Yes, it's me. I came to –"

The rest of her words were muffled as Isaac hugged her close.

"I've missed you," he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. "It's not the same without you and Alexia

Effie nodded and pulled him down for another hug. "I've missed you kids, too."

"This must be Isaac," Haymitch spoke up from where he was leaning against the door frame. The corner of his lips quirked upwards slightly. "Nice hair, kid."

Isaac kept quiet, not knowing if Haymitch was taunting him or giving a compliment. "Er, thanks?"

Effie watched as Isaac's posture morphed before her. He stood straighter and taller, and gathered his wits about him before striding to where Haymitch was.

"You're Mr. Abernathy, then? Nice to meet you," he extended his hand for a shake. Haymitch's eyebrows rose in amusement before he uncrossed his arms and shook the boy's hand.

She couldn't help the swell of pride or the smile gracing her face. Here was the boy who just months ago, had told her how much he hated the Mockingjay and the Rebellion for taking away his family, and yet, unlike most adults, he managed to put aside his prejudice and treated Haymitch politely.

Isaac returned back to his bed and sat at the edge of it, talking to Effie who was tucking the blankets around another boy's small frame.

"You're taking care of them, aren't you?" Effie asked.

"Yes," he nodded, his chest puffed out looking slightly proud.

Then his shoulders dropped and Isaac's next words were a mere whisper but Effie heard it clearly all the same. "They're my family now. They're all I have."

Effie smiled at him sadly and sat quietly beside him for a few minutes. She knew Haymitch was still by the door frame because she could feel his eyes on them.

"It's time to go, Eff," he said after a while.

"You be good, alright, Isaac? Don't give Julianne and Neil much trouble," Effie said, patting his knee.

"Are you kidding me? That's the best part. We like teasing Julianne and Neil. Don't tell them that but their reactions are always so funny," he whispered conspiratorially, a mischievous grin on his face. Effie's eyebrows knitted together and she was about to admonish Isaac for not showing the proper gratitude but Haymitch's hand on her shoulder stilled her words.

"He doesn't mean any harm by it. The kids just want to have fun, give them a break sweetheart," he said, but his eyes bore into Isaac who nodded meekly.

As they walked down the hallway, Effie hissed angrily.

"You shouldn't encourage him. Julianne and Neil did so much for them."

"And don't you think he doesn't know that? Boys will be boys, Eff. They're just teasing. I would be surprised if they didn't have some kind of mischief up their sleeves."

"And how would you know that?" she asked incredulously, slightly irked that the boys weren't behaving with the manners and decorum expected of them. "You're not exactly an expert in child caring."

"I've never claimed to be an expert," he replied, his voice clipped. "But I once had a brother and I know what it's like to have someone to get into all sorts of trouble with. I mean sure, the alcohol dulled most of it, but it didn't mean I've forgotten my childhood entirely. And…"

"Isaac reminded you of your brother," she finished his sentence for him as the understanding dawned on her.

XxX

"I'm sorry, Haymitch. For what happened back at the house," she said morosely. They had spent the entire car ride in silence and Plutarch must have sensed the disturbance that he had switched on the radio to fill the oppressive silence.

They were standing facing each other, their hair whipping about from the wind caused by the hovercraft's engine.

Haymitch snorted. "It just won't do if we don't disagree and fight, huh?"

Effie laughed softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "I'm sorry. It was so stupid to have been fighting when we could have used the time to…." She shook her head.

"Effie, you've got to board the hovercraft now," Plutarch shouted to be heard over the sound of the engines.

She turned to look at Plutarch and nodded, telling him silently that she heard him. Turning back to face Haymitch, she inhaled deeply - a method she knew worked perfectly when she was trying to stop herself from crying and control her emotions.

Her fist curled around his shirt as she stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips desperately to his. His hand grabbed her waist, keeping her steady as he kissed her back. Haymitch slowly unfurled her hand from his shirt and held it close to his chest.

"You should go now," he told her, giving her a small smile.

"Wait for me," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

"If my liver doesn't fail me first, sure, Eff," he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Effie knew how uncomfortable these kinds of situations made him feel.

"That's not funny, Haymitch."

He looked at her, his thumb tracing the small scar on her eyebrow, and Effie was beginning to think that it was becoming a habit of his.

"I've got nowhere else to go. You'll know where to find me."

* * *


	41. Chapter 41

 

To say that Effie followed the news of Fox's trial closely would be a gross understatement. Effie followed every bit of news obsessively – newspaper articles, television broadcasts and gossips from the grapevine from the officials in District Thirteen; anything that she could get her hands on.

It never occurred to her that Peeta or Johanna would be called as witness so she was rather taken by surprise when sketches of them on the witness stand made the front page news. Peeta seemed rather subdue when giving his answers. Johanna, on the other hand, with the fierce streak that had not abandoned her, seemed to take satisfaction at the situation that Adrian Fox was in.

When one of the more persistent reporters had managed to corner her, Johanna was reported to have muttered under her breath how she wished that they would drown him repeatedly. Effie had no clue what she meant by it but somehow instinctively knew that it must have had something to do with her incarceration.

As Effie soon found out as she sat with Fabius in his living room one hot afternoon, he was meant to take the stand against Adrian Fox but the prosecution soon found it redundant. Most of the details and information the prosecution needed could be found from the notes of evidence during his own trial before Fabius was exiled.

Being such a high profile case, the state was eager to wrap Fox's trial up as soon as they could but even with the various departments attempting to expedite the matter, the trial still took another full month before all the witnesses had been put on the stand and cross-examined.

XxX

Effie stopped in front of the place she called home during her exile and rested her bag of groceries on her hip as she unlatched the letterbox to retrieve her letters. She hardly received any, save for the occasional ones from Peeta and Katniss, and the unpredictable ones from Haymitch but she made it a habit to check every end of the week or so.

There was only one letter in a lilac envelope with her name written neatly on the front.  _Plutarch._  Dumping her bag of groceries on the kitchen counter, she leaned against it and slid open the envelope. Her eyes scanned briefly through the letter to get a gist of it.

Plutarch had wrote to her to inform in advance that Adrian Fox's trial had concluded that afternoon – news she knew because she was watching the live coverage of it on television – and that the judgment would be given in a week's time.

Needless to say, Effie's nerves were on edge for the duration of the week. It was unbelievable that after all that she had been through it had finally came to this. She personally believed that she would finally have some sort of closure from the horrors of the war once she knew that Adrian Fox would not be able to harm her anymore, that justice would be duly served.

Fabius had offered for her to come over and watch the live coverage of Fox's trial together but she had declined. She wanted to watch it alone, something that she could not even explain. When the hour came, Effie settled in front of the small sofa and switched on the television. She sipped her piping hot beverage cautiously as she watched the news anchor gave a highlight of what had happened so far during the trial. There was a brief shot of her walking out of the Courthouse with Plutarch by her side. Watching it from a different perspective as she was now, she could see Haymitch amongst the crowd walking out behind them.

The coverage ended and the shot focused on Adrian Fox as he was escorted out to the stand to face judgment. He shuffled slowly, his hands and legs bound by a heavy connecting chain. Most of his features were obscured by the beard that had grown but Effie could see his beady eyes darting back and forth as he took in his surroundings.

Just as it was with her trial, one of the tribunal members stood up and began to line out the evidence that had been presented before them, taking into considerations the testimonies of all the witnesses including the cases laid out by both sides. It was a mere formality and Effie mentally urged the man to hurry with the judgment itself. Her palms were already sweaty with nervous anticipation.

Effie had been so focused on facing her abuser at trial that she had not given much thought on the kind of verdict that would be given out. Even when Plutarch had informed her in advance of the coming judgment, she had not considered the sort of punishment that would meted out.

Finally, the speech dwindled to an end and another slip of paper was handed to the tribunal member. "We find Adrian Fox guilty for multiple counts of murder, deliberately causing bodily harm leading to murder, torture of prisoners and all the charges of war crimes that had been alleged against him by the state."

 _Guilty,_ Effie breathed out. Her eyes were glued to the television screen as it zoomed to focus on the tribunal member who cleared his throat before reading out the punishment. Effie held her breath, her hands clasped together in a death grip. The judgment rang in her ears and it took her a full minute to process that Adrian Fox was sentenced to life imprisonment at a maximum security prison with no motion for any presidential pardon granted.

She hung her head and gave an immense sigh of relief. When she looked up once again, the camera had changed its focus to the chaos that had erupted in the court room. Most of the people were cheering and clapping; the prosecutor had a smile on her face as she turned around and shook Plutarch's hand. Fox's defense lawyer wore a stoic expression but otherwise he didn't seem too unhappy with the verdict. There were a few people storming out of the courtroom when the verdict was read out and it didn't take too long for Effie to come to the conclusion that those people were Snow's loyalists; people who hated the changes happening in the Capitol and Panem.

Adrian Fox on the other hand was a different story altogether. He looked set to murder the entire tribunal, pinning President Paylor in particular with an angry glare. Effie could see that he was livid and even though she knew that he could not harm her, she couldn't help the way her heart had begun to race. His eyes were bloodshot red and spittle flew out of his mouth as he sputtered angrily.  _He's clearly deranged_ , Effie thought. They dragged him out of the court room kicking, struggling and screaming. She shut off the television, refusing to listen to the words of a man who knew his life was over.

XxX

Over the years, Effie learnt to live with the simplicity in District Thirteen. There were nothing extravagant to be found, nothing for her to splurge her hard earned coins on. Everything she needed were mere basic necessities – food and clothes, namely.

District Thirteen became a society with its own culture and norms. The people who had been sent here began to adapt to the lifestyle that was accorded to them. Most of them were from the Capitol, sent to District Thirteen on exile when it was purged off people who had committed crimes related to the Hunger Games, although there had been those few from the Districts whose crime Effie thought was no business of hers to poke around.

It was her third year in District Thirteen when she picked up the newspaper and read the news on Fox, once again. It had been awhile since she thought of him and her brows knitted together as she digested the news. Being the proud, arrogant man that he was, Fox had hanged himself in his prison cell. When the guards walked in, they found that he had cut himself on his arm with a shaving blade. What she thought was even more horrifying was that he has used the blood flowing out to finger paint a picture of a rose. Even after all that had happened, his loyalty to Snow was shocking.

Effie thought it was a coward's way out but she admitted to herself that life imprisonment was a much worse punishment than death. She threw away the newspaper in disgust.

Haymitch's letter made its way to her one week later. It simply said, "He's dead. Good riddance."

Effie shook her head and kept his letter with the pile that she had collected over the years. She knew Haymitch was a good man but even he entertained thoughts of vengeance once in a while and he had expressed his desire to personally kill Fox if there had not been a trial. That was the last time Haymitch ever mentioned Fox.

Effie promised herself that that would be the last time she would think of Fox but when night came, so did her nightmares. Adrian Fox, much to her chagrin, had a starring role in her nightmares and he wasn't about to let her go free.

Another letter from Haymitch came less than two weeks later which surprised Effie to no end. There had been occasions where she did not hear from him for months on end and to get two letters within the same month was astonishing.

The letter bore the same message it had every year during the yearly review period. "Your review is coming up. We'll see what we can do."

Plutarch and Haymitch had been trying to get her out of exile each year when they reviewed her case. Effie was more realistic and did not really place such high hopes on being released early. Still, Haymitch tried every year and Effie had a feeling that he dragged Plutarch into it.

XxX

The leaves rustled softly in the wind and her hair blew gently as Effie stood by the opened window, cradling Katniss's child.

When she was released, Effie had nowhere to go but she knew where to find Haymitch. Her goodbyes with Fabius had been tearful. The friends that she had made while in exile had waved happily, wishing her all the luck in the world.

Once she was escorted out of the boundaries of District Thirteen and had her tracing anklet removed, Effie felt a huge sense of exhilaration. Haymitch had told her once, five years ago at Snow's mansion that she was free but the word held no meaning for her. But now, she truly understood the meaning and she swore she would make the best out of her life. She left District Thirteen and never looked back.

Effie smiled ruefully, gazing down at the infant in her arms. She didn't know what made her do it but she brushed the curls of dark hair back and sang softly to the baby, a nursery rhyme she heard a lifetime ago as a child.

_"… six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told, eight for a wish, nine for a kiss, ten for a time of joyous bliss."_

"I don't know much about babies but even I know that child will catch a cold with the wind blowing in her direction," a deep baritone voice reached her ears.

Effie's skin prickled at the sound of his voice. She closed her eyes briefly. Effie had not heard his voice in five years and it brought a strange sort of comfort to know he was within an arm's reach.

She turned around and saw Haymitch walking towards her, his eyes gleaming. They stared at each other, Haymitch stopping a few steps before her. Effie spoke, her face flushed under his intense scrutiny.

"She's asleep," she whispered. "I'll put her in her crib and I'll be right down."

Haymitch nodded and jerked his head outside. Effie transferred the baby to Katniss' arms when she bumped into Katniss on her way up to the nursery and hurried after Haymitch. He was walking slowly along the red-bricked pathway towards his house, his hands in his pockets and Effie easily fell in step with him.

He glanced briefly at her.

"Ten for a time of joyous bliss?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"Isn't it?" she asked back, sounding slightly on edge. She could have her happiness, her peace now and she felt rather annoyed at Haymitch's persistent pessimism over everything.

"Tiger, retract those claws. I was just teasing," Haymitch smirked and Effie felt slightly foolish for being so defensive.

"I know. I'm just…It was something I heard from when I was a child. I don't know if you've heard of it here in Twelve…" She trailed off. "Where have you been? I stopped by your house earlier but you weren't there."

"From town. They told me a certain female who looked slightly familiar was making her way to Victors' Village. Someone the people in District Twelve thought they knew but couldn't really put their finger on it and I thought to myself, who could this woman be?"

"So you came back to check up on this woman?" she asked, smiling.

"Of course. I don't like strangers snooping around the place where I live," he told her, leaning languidly against his front door.

Effie stopped in front of him. She had to look up slightly since he was a head taller than her without her heels.

"Oh? Even if that stranger was me?"

"Especially if it's you," he replied. "Why didn't you tell me you were let out? Or that you were coming here?"

She shrugged. "I just wanted it to be a surprise."

"Yeah?" Haymitch asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't like surprises, sweetheart."

Effie laughed; the sound a melodious tinkling in the wind. A bird flew overhead, returning to its nest, back to its family. She rested the palm of her hand on his neck, her thumb softly stroking his jaw. His eyes were soft and Effie smiled, relishing the happiness that she had not felt in years and was threatening to seep through every pore of her skin.

She had waited for this moment, counted down every minute of every day and nothing Haymitch said would take away those feelings.

"You're so grouchy. It's a beautiful day, Haymitch and don't lie, everyone loves surprises," she told him in a voice that brooked no argument.

Haymitch covered her hand with his and pulled her close. Effie waited for him to say something, anything at all but all he did was to continue silently studying her. He seemed content to just hold her, his hand resting lightly on her waist.

"You know, we never did have the  _talk._  The one you promised we would have after everything's over," she reminded him.

His eyes flashed and Effie knew he remembered the first time they kissed the night Katniss and Peeta won, and the numerous times he evaded her whenever she tried to talk to him about it.

"What's there to talk about?" he mumbled quietly.

"But –"

Her words were cut off when his hand pushed the small of her back so that she was pressed against him. He closed the space between them and kissed her slowly, teasingly. It took her breath away and her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

"That should answer whatever questions you had," he murmured, returning to the lazy kisses she knew he was doing on purpose.

Effie lost herself in the multitude of feelings overriding her senses as his mouth travelled from her lips to pepper kisses on her cheeks and her neck. His hands fumbled for the door knob behind him and they stumbled past the threshold of his house. Haymitch kicked the door shut. The world was temporarily forgotten and everything took a back seat. Her life and her time was her own now and she had nothing urgent else to do, no schedule to follow. Effie intended to spend it where she was until a day comes when Haymitch himself told her to leave.

He never did.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finally the end. Thank you so much for reading it, leaving kudos and comments :))


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